No Air
by Maddie Rose
Summary: The High King is surrounded by beautiful women, but he tires of them. Then Aerilyn arrives in Narnia. She is not beautiful or interested. As Peter tries to unravel the mystery of her dark past, a horrific death makes him question those he trusts. Peter/OC
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

**A/N: Hello and welcome to the sequel to Heart of Fire. It's up a little earlier than I expected. As you probably already know, this one is mainly Peter-centric. It has the same OCs as before, along with the additional main female OC and a few others. Just a heads up…this one has a little more suggestive content. Nothing major, but you know…it's Peter…he's a flirtatious womanizer…enjoy!**

* * *

_It was painless at first, the same as it always was. He watched as the three girls sat down to dinner, accompanied by a man with greying hair who could only have been their father. It was an innocent family gathering. His blood burned at the knowledge of what was to come. _

_It was always the middle one his gaze lingered on, even the first time when he hadn't known why or what was to happen. It was something about those intelligent blue-green eyes, that shining copper hair. He was fascinated by her, and yet he pitied her as well. She couldn't have been more than seventeen years old._

_The older one to her left was in her early twenties and had stronger features, almost ugly. Her nose was long and pointed and her lips too thin, yet there was something enthusiastic about her face, the way she shook back her dark hair when she laughed. Her name, as he well knew, was Tanwen. He didn't have to listen to the conversation for what seemed like the millionth time to know that she was engaged and spending her last dinner with her family._

_The younger one to the redhead's right was around eleven or twelve, with fluffy blonde hair and a sweet face. Her name was Delilah and she seemed to be spoiled by the father, clearly a widower. She looked to her sisters constantly, almost for reassurance that she was doing the right thing. He pitied her insecurity._

"_I don't believe you're leaving us, Tanwen!" the copper-haired girl exclaimed, nudging her older sister slyly in the side, "You'd better come back as soon as you're married."_

_There was a knock at the door, an impatient hammering that would change the lives of everyone in this little house in Archenland. The family looked up abruptly and the father sighed heavily and eased himself out of his seat, starting through the small kitchen towards the front door._

"_I'll get it."_

_The three girls laughed and prattled on, clearly unaware of the impact this simple event would have. If only the father hadn't answered the door. Things might have been different then, but Peter wished he could wince and turn away from it all._

_A sudden shout made Tanwen stagger to her feet, hands clenched into fists of rage. There were a group of soldiers standing in the doorway, weapons shining as brightly as the malice in their eyes. Before Tanwen had taken ten steps towards her father, a sword had been plunged clean through his body and he had fallen._

_Delilah screamed piercingly. The copper-haired girl's eyes widened and Peter knew, as he'd always known, that she understood exactly what this was about. Tanwen faltered in her angry march towards the door, mouth opening into a gape of shock as she watched her father fall. The copper-haired girl reached for Delilah as the soldiers filed through, grabbing her younger sister and pulling her away from the scene, just as Tanwen was ruthlessly killed in the same manner as her father._

_Delilah was sobbing uncontrollably as her copper-haired sister dragged her into hiding, fiddling around and pulling out something that made Peter metaphorically catch his breath every time – the White Witch's scepter. When she pulled that out, the same questions raced through his mind. How could a middle-class Archenland family have possession of the scepter? They clearly understood its importance._

"_Take this," the copper-haired girl whispered, kissing her sister desperately on the forehead, "You must run, Delilah. It's the scepter they want. I'll buy you time."_

_Delilah opened her mouth to protest, but the copper-haired girl pressed a hand over her sister's mouth and shook her head, firm eyes indicating that she tolerate no objections. She released Delilah, pushing her crying sister away from her._

"_Do it, Delilah! You must."_

_The young girl wiped away tears and nodded, before darting nimbly through the shadows. The copper-haired girl squeezed her eyes shut in defeat as the footsteps hurried towards her, the soldiers smashing their way through the house as they went, taking pleasure in its demise. There was smoke and firelight. Something was burning._

_The leader of the group was a man with cold, cruel features that Peter recognised all too well. Ran, fervent supporter of Jadis and Telani. He was younger though, only around eighteen or nineteen. He advanced on the copper-haired girl with a smirk, revelling in her helplessness. Tears streamed down the girl's cheeks, yet she dared not say a word._

"_Where is the scepter?"_

_Ran gave her a moment, but the copper-haired girl refused to answer, her defiant glare speaking her intentions all too clearly. A nerve twitched in his forehead and he slapped her across the face, an act Peter always viewed as abhorrent. Hitting women was simply something he could never tolerate._

"_I asked you a question, girl. Now I expect an answer. I know your father had it hidden around here somewhere."_

_The girl offered Ran a cold, calculating smile. "I would rather burn along with my home than tell you anything."_

_For some reason, her courage reminded Peter of Safara. This girl was far different from his brother's wife, though – she maintained her composure where Safara would have lost her temper completely. This copper-haired girl lacked Safara's fire, but not her mettle._

_Ran inclined his head towards the girl. "Bring her. She knows. I'll get it out of her eventually."_

_One young woman threw Ran a bitter look. Clearly, she despised him and wished to challenge his leadership. "You'd better. Telani isn't going to be pleased otherwise."_

"_I will deal with Telani," Ran snapped at her, losing his patience, "Now be quiet, Layla. Will you ever learn your place?"_

_Layla folded her arms and threw Ran a sullen look, but said nothing. The copper-haired girl was dragged forwards by two of the Outlanders. She struggled in their grasp, but her eyes told Peter she had already condemned herself to her fate._

_Peter never found out what happened to the girl – this was the only dream he had about her, although it was repetitive – and as usual, everything went black as the Outlanders dragged the copper-haired girl away. Behind them, the house burned._

* * *

Edmund and Safara were fighting again. This was hardly an uncommon occurrence. Usually they would have a shouting match, with Safara threatening Edmund with numerous tortures, then end up kissing passionately in an attempt at reconciliation. Peter had given up on trying to understand their relationship. He knew he never would.

Falcon sighed heavily as he rested his boots on the table, but quickly desisted upon earning a disapproving frown from Susan. He glanced at the door behind him. From the shouting, Edmund and Safara were still having their row.

"They're still fighting. Safara's threatening to throw Edmund from the tallest turret."

"Again?" Peter mused, unable to suppress the smile that now lingered upon his lips, "I thought she used that one on him last time."

Falcon nodded. "She did. But don't worry, I've heard a couple of new ones. Apparently, she also plans to impale him with her sword, make the wolves eat him and I quote 'throw that stupid silver crown into the sea'."

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Well, it seems like Safara's got herself some new material."

Susan leaned forward on her elbow. They had barricaded themselves in the dining room and although the meal was over, none of them dared to leave. Cair Paravel was never an uneventful place as long as Edmund and Safara were there.

"So what's it about this time?"

Falcon shrugged. "No idea. But we all know how they're going to make it up once they're done fighting." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Peter and Susan groaned simultaneously.

"Falcon, we don't want to know. This is our _brother_ you're talking about." Peter hid his face in his hands.

Falcon's face bore an impish grin. "Yeah, but we all know you've done it with half the girls in Cair Paravel."

Susan laughed, and then stopped abruptly when she saw the look on Peter's face, changing her tactic to smacking Falcon around the back of the head. Falcon rubbed ruefully at the nape of his neck, throwing Susan a disapproving frown.

"Oh, come on. You know it's true."

"I hardly think it's any of your business," Peter retorted coolly, tempted to throw in the 'you're just jealous' line, but stopping himself just in time, biting back the words. It wasn't Falcon's fault that Milla was dead. It had been almost two years now, but it must still be painful to bring up around him.

Many of the girls from Cair Paravel had approached Falcon – Peter had no idea if Falcon had actually tumbled any of them – but he had dismissed them as love interests. It had been Milla he'd cared about and no one seemed to have replaced her in his heart.

The door opened and the three of them tensed, expecting Safara or Edmund. Instead it was Lucy, who glanced at them all with amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"Why are you all grimacing like gargoyles?"

Lucy had blossomed during the past two years. Now eighteen years old, she was definitely more woman than girl. She was slender as opposed to Susan's curvaceous figure, but she was still very pretty and had her own string of admirers. For the older Pevensies, however, it was hard to view Lucy as anything other than their baby sister. She still had an innocence about her that defied her years.

"Edmund and Safara are fighting again," Susan replied, "Can't you hear them shouting at each other?"

Lucy just shrugged, her cheeks going bright red. "Umm…they're not fighting anymore."

There was an awkward silence as everyone present found that they knew _exactly _what was going on, and that they really _didn't _want to know.

"So!" Susan clapped her hands together, forcing a too-bright smile, "Who's up for dessert?"

* * *

Peter found himself, once again, contemplating marriage. He tended to do this a lot after Edmund and Safara fought and…made up. Of course, Peter hardly expected his siblings to be innocent. He and Hope had first done the deed when Peter had been seventeen. Safara had been Edmund's first. Susan he wasn't sure about – she tended to keep her love life a mystery – but Peter was almost certain Lucy hadn't…done that. It was _Lucy._

As the High King, Peter was expected to marry. He was twenty-three years old now. As it was, he fooled around with girls – except when it came to the young ladies sent to Cair Paravel for him to court. He was polite, but avoided any romantic relations with them. Well, sometimes there would be a one-night stand, but many of the young women failed to realize that this didn't mean eternal commitment.

All of the young women Peter was supposed to woo were extremely beautiful. They were pleasing to the eye, but Peter had long since learned to discern attraction from any real feelings. He might succumb to his lust…that didn't mean he loved them. In fact, Peter tired of them. All women were the same – apart from a select few, they were spineless airheads whose opinions revolved around whatever he said.

Peter didn't want a wife who agreed with everything he said. He wanted someone who would challenge him, someone with spirit…someone who didn't giggle shrilly enough to make him want to tear out his own hair. Beauty to Peter equaled a tumble, if that. He wanted a wife who was more than just a pretty face.

For whatever reason, he thought back to the girl in his dream. Did she really exist? If so, she'd be around Susan's age now. What had happened to her? Peter admonished himself. She was just a girl. It wasn't as though he knew her. He had the nasty feeling that her sister, Delilah, must have been caught. This must have been when the Outlanders had claimed the White Witch's scepter.

Peter sighed heavily and rolled over. Life in Cair Paravel had been peaceful of late. There had been a few border skirmishes, but nothing more. The Outlanders were far too quiet for Peter's liking. They hadn't been reported in Narnia, so he guessed they were elsewhere – maybe Archenland – plotting their revenge.

* * *

"Hey, Milla."

Falcon stood with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped and his dark hair hanging in his face. The moonlight reflected off his silver earrings as he stood at Milla's unoccupied grave. He didn't know whether he was talking to the grave or the stars. Falcon swallowed the lump in his throat and tossed back his hair. Aslan's mane, it had been two years. He should be over it…except he wasn't and he hated himself for it.

"Stuff's going good down here. Edmund and Safara had another fight, so we know everything's normal." The hint of a smile cracked his lips. "Peter's being as promiscuous as ever and the girls are ravishing. Violet's fifteen now, and you should see Lucy. She's grown up so much."

Why did he keep coming here alone in the dead of night? It was almost like Falcon was ashamed of what he was doing, but why should he be?

"Things are good for everyone else, but…I don't know. I feel incomplete – and it's not just because of you. It's like…the Pevensies act like I'm one of them in some ways, but in others I'm completely excluded. Sometimes I wonder whether I made the right choice. I mean, I believe in Aslan…except maybe I'm not who I'm supposed to be, if that makes any sense."

Falcon brushed back his hair. That was the question: who was Falcon Curtis? It was a mystery to everyone, including him. He viewed the Pevensies as his surrogate siblings, but he wasn't sure if they really trusted him.

"You should see Mike." Falcon chuckled as he thought of his friend, turning his mind from the matter of himself. Not everyone was as fragmented and confused as him. He wanted to be whole again. "He's become a great soldier now. He's really dedicated."

Falcon turned sharply as the trees whispered in warning. A hooded figure was sprinting away and a chill ran down Falcon's spine. Whoever it was hadn't harmed him, yet that didn't make them any less a foe. Why had the figure been watching him? It wasn't someone from Cair Paravel, because they were moving away in the opposite direction.

Troubled, Falcon whipped around and started moving back towards the palace, shivering for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold breeze.


	2. Unwelcome Visitors

**Chapter One: Unwelcome Visitors**

**A/N: Oh my gosh, 13 reviews for the first chapter alone! Wow, you guys are simply amazing. Thanks so much to: princess emma of narnia, berry-cool, wolves-rain-chick, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, FelipeMarcusThomas, Elizabeth Zara, earth17, Luli Cullen, Aislinn101, shippolove884, Loper42, EcoSeeker247 and Rayven49**

* * *

Edmund was already at breakfast by the time Peter entered the dining hall. He couldn't quite suppress the smirk that spread across his face as he loaded the maple syrup onto his pancakes. Edmund was studiously avoiding his gaze.

"Have a good sleep, Ed?" he teased.

Edmund grunted in reply as he crunched on his toast. Peter noticed that his dark hair stuck up at all different angles and his clothes were ruffled. He tried not to laugh.

"I'm twenty, Peter. What I do is really none of your business."

Peter just shrugged and both brothers continued their breakfast in silence. They were soon joined by Falcon, who immediately got started on the orange juice, and Mike, who wolfed down the bacon. Edmund stopped chewing on his toast and glared across at the older man.

"What have I told you about putting your feet on the table?"

"Oops, sorry." Falcon removed his feet and took another gulp of juice. "It's an old habit."

"It's a disgusting habit," Peter reminded him, "We all have to eat off this table. No one wants to eat where someone's had their feet."

Falcon's eyes narrowed and his expression became hard as stone. Peter watched him warily, wondering what exactly had made the young man so angry.

"I said I was sorry," Falcon snapped, slamming his goblet of juice down and stomping out of the dining room.

Edmund watched him go with a frown. "Great, Peter."

Peter sighed in frustration. "It's not _my _fault. He's always so touchy!"

Edmund shook his head as he swallowed his toast, pointing an accusing finger at his older brother. The effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that his shirt was covered with crumbs. Mike watched the pair of them silently, focusing on his food. He didn't want to get involved in this.

"That's not true. Besides, you never think anything's your fault."

Peter just tossed his blond hair and shrugged. "I'm the High King. Nothing ever _is _my fault."

Edmund shook his head disgustedly, rolling his eyes. Sometimes, he wasn't sure whether Peter was joking or not. Wait until Safara caught him saying something like that. She would have no problem putting him back in his place. Right on cue, the doors opened and Safara entered the dining room, yawning and stretching her arms over her head.

"Morning everyone."

Mike nearly choked on his eggs, but quickly disguised it as a hacking cough. He didn't want to suffer Safara's wrath and he definitely didn't want her to know that he found this whole situation amusing. The 'Edmund and Safara' thing, that was.

"You coming down with something?" Safara asked of Mike as she sat down beside Edmund. Mike shook his head and for a few moments, Safara watched the three young men ravenously devouring their breakfast with faint amusement.

"You know you lot eat like pigs, right?" She glanced around and frowned consideringly. "Hey, where's Falcon? He's normally up early."

Mike opened his mouth to tell Safara about the argument between Peter and Edmund, and how Falcon seemed to be in a bad mood, but Peter stamped on his foot, effectively shutting him up.

"Not sure. He must be out practising his archery."

This was a valid excuse. Falcon did indeed like to go out and practise archery in the morning. Safara just shrugged and continued eating. Edmund's chair scraped back and he leaned across and kissed his wife quickly on the cheek.

"Well, I think I'm going to the library. One of the spies wanted to see me this morning."

Just as Edmund walked out, Lucy hurried into the dining room. Her eyes were wide and her gaze was focused solely on Peter. As the High King, most responsibilities were left up to him. He groaned, hating the interruption in the middle of breakfast.

"What's happening now, Lu?"

The youngest Queen bit her lip. She looked worried.

"Well…you're not going to like it, Peter."

"I already don't," he grumbled, standing up and glaring down at the remnants of his breakfast, "I don't like being disturbed during breakfast. So what's the matter?"

"There's someone waiting to see you in the throne room." By the troubled look in Lucy's eyes, it couldn't be anyone good. Peter tensed, preparing to hear the name of an enemy… "Peter, it's Hope."

* * *

Peter wasn't sure what to expect. He hadn't seen Hope in two years, when he'd broken her heart and shattered her dreams. She probably hated him, so he was apprehensive. He didn't know whether he'd rather face Hope or the surviving Outlanders right now. He had to maintain his calm, though. He was High King Peter the Magnificent and he conveyed nothing but effortless charm. He wouldn't let Hope see him nervous.

He entered the throne room and critically examined the naiad. Hope was just as beautiful as ever, with her creamy complexion and those deep blue eyes he felt could see into his very soul. She smiled and curtsied as he approached. Peter felt slight relief – she wasn't openly hostile, at least.

"It's good to see you, Hope," he lied. Sometimes, diplomacy was better than telling the truth. Edmund might be honest to the point of rudeness, but Peter always felt that being polite was more important. He had no desire to make an enemy of Hope.

"The same to you, your Majesty." Her voice was as he remembered it – smooth and sweet as honey. It was hard not to be sucked into the trap of Hope's beauty…but Peter knew another affair with her would make her believe he wanted to marry her. "It has been some time."

Peter inclined his head. "It has. What brings you back to Cair Paravel?"

Hope's shoulders stiffened slightly, but she still smiled.

"There is much talk among my people, your Majesty. I am not alone in travelling to Cair Paravel. Other naiads and dryads have arrived also. They are not the first…nor will they be the last."

Peter frowned. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend what Hope meant.

"What are you talking about?"

Hope's eyes were wide. "I thought your brother had met with his spies…?"

Peter shook his head fervently. "He's meeting with them now. Anything they've told him hasn't been relayed to me yet."

Hope nodded understandingly. "Of course. In that case, you should be aware…the Outlanders have been more active of late. We do not know what this means, only that it will bring great trouble. We come because we feel that you may need assistance, should the Outlanders choose to attack."

Peter was relieved, yet he couldn't help but feel that Hope had ulterior motives for coming to Cair Paravel. Wisely, he decided not to voice his suspicions.

"Thank you."

Hope's smile faltered a little and then the formalities dropped completely.

"Peter…you know I'm here to help you, don't you?"

The High King frowned. "Yes, of course. Why?"

Hope bit her lip. "I only wondered whether…well, we did have something. I know that it has been two years…but you don't feel _anything _for me?"

Peter's shoulders slumped. Oh, fantastic. They were back on the topic of _feelings._ He hated it enough when he heard the girls talking about feelings. Men weren't made of stone, but it just made him uncomfortable to voice how he felt. Especially to someone like Hope, an old flame of his.

"Hope, you've only just come back." She needed to know that he was more mature now, that he never intended his affairs to mean anything. Peter was good at charming the ladies…it was just that they always thought it entailed more. A kiss didn't make a Princess. "I don't know how I feel about you right now. It looks as though we have bigger things to worry about, in any case."

Hope regained her composure. "Of course. Forgive me, your Majesty. I forgot myself."

* * *

So Peter's day became a colourless blur of approving Narnians to take refuge in Cair Paravel, where they not only felt that they would be safe, but that they would be able to defend their Kings and Queens easily if the need arose. Most were fauns, dryads, naiads, centaurs…it all melded into one in Peter's mind.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon and Peter suddenly fancied an ocean dip. There were only a few more people to see to and after having approved a centaur, he found himself tiredly calling, "Next."

The red-haired young woman who entered the throne room seemed to be human. Peter found himself staring at her with fascinated horror, then flushed in embarrassment at his own actions. The woman was young, perhaps the same age as Susan, twenty-two at the oldest. With great sorrow, he realised that she would once have been very beautiful…but she wasn't and probably never would be again.

Her face was marred by five parallel scars. She wore the dress of a lady, yet carried a bow and arrows in a quiver on her back. Her arms were scarred in a similar fashion to her face and Peter would guess her legs may be as well. Whatever beauty the young woman once had, it had now diminished, leaving behind a grim person with a bitter smile twisting her thin lips. Her eyes, Peter noticed, were a striking blue-green.

"Your Majesty." Her curtsy was almost mocking and there was a sense of dry amusement about her, as if she didn't take him seriously. "My name is Aerilyn and I am from Archenland. I have come to Narnia because my mother died and I remain unmarried. I'd hoped that perhaps I could find employment here."

Peter watched Aerilyn carefully. Why had she come to Narnia for employment? Surely she could have gotten a job as a scullery maid in Archenland.

"Why in Narnia?" he questioned.

Aerilyn's smile was sour and her eyes flickered with darkness. "Do you not see the scars on my face, your Majesty? They fear me. They think I am a monster. They can't stand the sight of me. All I ask is for a chance."

Peter pitied this young woman. She had come to Narnia looking for a second chance – and hadn't they all? There was something about Aerilyn, something that told she wasn't just another face that would pass him by. He wasn't going to forget someone like her.

"Well, what are you good at?" he asked of her.

Aerilyn shrugged non-chalantly. "I'm first and foremost an archer. I can mend clothes, so I suppose I could work as a seamstress."

Peter shook his head. They already had many seamstresses in Narnia. Besides, they could use some more female archers. He swallowed hard as he realised there hadn't been any more female archers since Milla had died.

"Perhaps archery is best. We're short at the moment and you'd make a welcome addition. I know just the person who can teach you, too."

The smile that crossed Aerilyn's lips was not a cynical one. This time it was genuine. She inclined her head.

"Thank you, your Majesty."

Peter pointed towards the door that led out into the corridor. "Go out there and ask for Queen Susan. Tell whoever it is that the High King sent you. When you meet with Susan, tell her everything you've told me. She'll help you."

The young woman nodded. "I'll do that."

As she left the throne room, Peter suddenly found himself feeling concerned. She seemed so familiar – yet he knew he had never met her before. Aerilyn wasn't a common name, and a face like hers, he wouldn't easily forget. Yet there was something that made it seem as though he already knew her…he just couldn't put a finger on it…

Sighing heavily, Peter shook his head. He could focus on the matter of Aerilyn later on. Right now, he had to focus on the small group of Narnians that he still had to approve and give direction to. Raising his chin, he called, "Next."


	3. A Spot of Murder

**Chapter Two: A Spot of Murder**

**A/N: Again, I'm astounded by the number of reviews! A big thanks to: AlexShah, wolves-rain-chick, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, shippolove844, princess emma of narnia, Luli Cullen, FelipeMarcusThomas, Rayven49, Gangster1995, Elizabeth Zara, EcoSeeker247 and Miss Lorraine Scarlet.**

* * *

Peter jerked awake to an insistent knocking on his door and whispers in the corridor. He groaned and had the immature response of pulling his pillow over his head so he couldn't hear any of it. Didn't his duties as High King even stop during the night? Thoroughly annoyed, Peter stomped over to the door and flung it open.

A white-faced Sir Tarin stood out in the corridor and Peter's first thought was how awfully young he looked. But he wasn't alone – knights were hurrying up and down the corridor, lords and ladies whispering and Susan was at the centre of it all, grim-faced.

"What's happened?" Peter asked of Tarin.

The young nobleman swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"There's been a murder, your Majesty. Lord Reynald – they found him dead in his bed with multiple stab wounds."

Peter felt like he couldn't breathe, like there was no air in his lungs. He immediately knew that this had something to do with the influx of people seeking refuge from the supposed return of the Outlanders. Reynald was a fine diplomat and had advised the Pevensies well during their younger years. None of those in Cair Paravel, no one that he knew and trusted, would have killed Reynald…would they?

Peter pushed past Tarin and headed towards his sister. She swung around to face him, a solemn expression on her face as she reached out to embrace him. They had all known Reynald well and his death shook them. Who could have brutally murdered one of their oldest friends?

"What should I do?" Peter asked quietly as he and Susan drew apart. He hated having to ask for help, but Susan was wise. If he could rely on anyone to come up with a smart idea, it was her. Susan pressed her face into her hands, sighing deeply.

"We need to know what we're dealing with, Peter. Do you think this could have been one of the refugees?"

Peter shrugged. He felt so naïve. He'd let all these people into Cair Paravel…and now they had killed Reynald. For some reason, he knew it wasn't a random murder. This was the work of someone who wanted to give them a warning: this could be you next. It was the work of someone who hated them. Perhaps one of the refugees was an Outlander spy.

"I…I don't know."

Everyone was looking to him now. He was expected to be ruthless, to make a decision that would show the murderer no mercy – yet he didn't know who the killer even was. How was he supposed to condemn someone who he might know? Susan was watching him with a sympathetic as everyone in the corridor gathered around their High King.

"Listen to me!" Peter held up his hands, cutting through the low murmurs. "We all knew Lord Reynald. He was a good man and I assure you, the one who did this will be punished. I don't have any more idea of who the murderer is than you do. Therefore, as of now, everyone inside Cair Paravel is a suspect."

His last seven words shocked everyone and then the babble started up again. The eyes of those around him widened in astonishment. Peter felt trapped. He didn't want to act like he trusted no one, but he had no choice. He wished he was wearing his crown right now. Without it, he felt small and insignificant.

"I'm going to compose a list of three suspects," Peter continued, raising his voice to be heard, "Those three will be taken to the dungeons and kept there until further notice. Aside from those three, I'm going to interview the next ten most likely. Everyone else is to be kept on alert."

The whispers grew fearful now. No one wanted to be one of the three suspects. A wave of tiredness threatened to overwhelm Peter and he blinked, trying to keep it together. He felt like he was suffocating.

"I'll sort this out in the morning," he said, more to himself than the watching crowd, "I...I need some sleep."

Lord Reynald's murder was the talk of Cair Paravel. The proper arrangements had been made and he'd been given a funeral, yet what was most disturbing was that the enemy was someone inside the walls. This made Peter cold with fear. Who knew when they would strike again?

The people expected him to come up with his list by nightfall. It was going to be hard, trying to decide the three most likely people to have killed Lord Reynald…yet doubt continued to stir in his mind and he began to suspect not the refugees, but those closest to him.

* * *

With so much chaos going on inside the castle, the outsiders who lived there just wanted to get away from it all. They hadn't known Reynald and the tension had become uncomfortable. So Mike, Safara, Violet and Falcon all headed down towards the practise fields – and quickly discovered they weren't alone.

A young woman stood firing arrows at a target, her copper hair whipping into her face in the wind. Falcon watched, impressed as the arrow went whizzing into the centre of the target. This young woman definitely knew what she was doing. Then she turned to look at them and he saw her scarred face.

"She's from Archenland," Violet mumbled, tightening the string on her bow as she spoke, "I think her name's Aerilyn."

As a Princess of Narnia, Safara knew it was only polite to introduce to this woman. Aerilyn seemed…a little different. She just stared at them as they approached, but Safara held her gaze and smiled.

"Hey. I'm Princess Safara. I'm not sure if you've met King Edmund, but I'm his wife."

Aerilyn's smile looked more like a grimace, but she curtsied to Safara and tossed back her red hair.

"Your Highness. I haven't met your husband, but I have met your brother-in-law, King Peter. He seems a nice man."

Safara shuffled uncomfortably as she always did when people used her formal title. She was only a nineteen-year-old from the 21st century. Not 'Princess', not 'your Highness'.

"Just call me Safara, everyone does. May I ask what brings you to Narnia?"

Aerilyn's blue-green eyes flashed for a moment, but she just shrugged.

"Employment opportunities."

Safara knew by the way she averted her eyes and licked her lips that she was lying. Safara had known enough liars to tell. However, she decided it was best that she didn't push it. If Aerilyn didn't want to talk about why she'd come, that was her business. Safara wanted to trust the poor young woman, with her scarred face and grim expression, but at the same time Aerilyn was making it hard by lying to her.

"Do you like it here so far?" Safara inquired, changing tactic. She was still the same fiery spirit that Edmund had first fallen in love with, but she'd been…well, _tamed_ wasn't the word for it. She'd never be tamed. She had just grown up a bit, learned about diplomacy.

A genuine smile spread across Aerilyn's mouth. "Oh, yes. Narnia's beautiful. Archenland is quite…quite different."

Safara nodded understandingly. She knew exactly what Aerilyn meant.

"Did you come here with your family?"

Aerilyn's face went cold and she strung another arrow, this one hitting the centre of the target as she unleashed it as well. Safara had just given up on a response from the strange young woman when Aerilyn turned back to face her.

"My family is dead."

"Oh." Safara blinked. She hadn't meant to offend the young woman. "I'm sorry. I didn't…"

Aerilyn was stringing another arrow, eyes narrowing in concentration as she focused her attention on the target. She wasn't even looking at Safara now, but there was something hard in her eyes, something that lurked beneath the surface.

"Here's the thing. You seem like a lovely person, Safara…but if I were you, I'd stay well away. I have a tendency to destroy everything and everyone around me."

Safara could hear the echo of Edmund there, how he'd told her that she should stay away from him. By now, Safara knew that when someone tried to push you away, that was when they needed you the most. To her, Aerilyn's rejection was a cry for help, a cry she didn't want to voice.

"Okay." Safara shrugged. She'd leave it for now. "I'd say it was nice talking to you, but…well to be honest, it wasn't."

"Honesty." Aerilyn nodded approvingly. "I find it…refreshing."

Safara turned and walked back towards the others, who were watching her and Aerilyn with guarded expressions.

"So?" pressed Mike. "What did she say?"

Safara looked back over her shoulder at Aerilyn, saw the livid hate in her expression as she loosed an arrow at the target. Clearly, she was picturing someone. Was it the person who gave her the scars on her face? Safara found herself pitying the young woman.

"She just wants to be left alone."

* * *

Dusk. The four Pevensies sat in their thrones and Peter looked down upon the waiting crowd. The crown suddenly felt heavy on his head. His burden was too great. Along with Susan, they had reluctantly agreed on their list of suspects – although to Peter, it felt like betrayal. It needed to be done, but it still felt like he was using Rhindon to stab someone in the back.

Peter got to his feet. He usually felt magnificent in the resplendent clothes he wore – but not tonight. Tonight, he was condemning three people – one of them to the gallows, perhaps. Whoever murdered Lord Reynald could not go unpunished. As he stood, the crowd fell silent.

"I just want to get this over and done with. Susan and I have come up with ten people we believe should be interviewed – and three suspects we think are most likely to have killed Lord Reynald. We'll start with the ten."

Peter took a deep breath and started calling out names. He was killing them and he knew it. He wanted to trust, but it was those closest to him who he was forced to call out.

"Safara."

Edmund made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a growl. He threw Peter a filthy look that told the High King that Edmund didn't appreciate his wife being on the list of interviewees. Peter forced himself to ignore it. Let him look ruthless. Right now, he had to pretend he didn't have a heart…for the good of everyone in Cair Paravel.

"Aerilyn."

The scarred young woman tilted her chin and offered him a bitter smile. The only reason he suspected her at all was because she was so secretive. However, she didn't even seem to take offense. Perhaps she understood better than he'd thought.

"Tarin."

The young nobleman, known for his flirtatious ways with the women, looked scared. A few more names were called, six others in Cair Paravel that were fairly close to the Pevensies. All of them had the same disbelief in their eyes.

"Now for the three suspects. It pains me to do this, it really does – but I need Cair Paravel to be safe and I can't do that when there's a murderer within these walls. These three are to be taken to the dungeons until further notice."

He took a deep breath and swallowed his guilt.

"Hope."

Peter's old flame. There were definitely gasps at that one. Hope turned incredibly pale, as if she couldn't believe that Peter would ever accuse her of such a thing – and yet he had. This wasn't the High King she'd known. She shook her head slowly as the guards came to take her away, unable to believe that Peter was capable of being so callous.

"Mike."

Violet cried out in shock as the guards grabbed Mike by the arms. He looked up at Peter with horror in his eyes, but Peter couldn't look at him. He didn't want to admit that he didn't trust Mike, but the proof was right there.

"No!" Violet exclaimed.

Then came the last name, the one that seemed to get stuck in Peter's throat.

"Falcon."

There were gasps of shock and Falcon bared his teeth and struggled violently against the guards who came to take him down to the dungeons. His eyes were burning with something fierce as he glowered murderously at Peter.

"What?" cried Safara, lunging forward, "Peter, you must be insane…"

Edmund got up and grabbed her by the arms, dragging Safara away as she shouted curses at the High King, who didn't even flinch as Safara and Edmund disappeared into the congregation. She wasn't the only one who was shocked. Lucy was staring at her older brother with accusation in her wide eyes.

* * *

"This is wrong," Lucy whispered through the prison bars. "I'm going to talk to Peter and get him to see reason."

Mike was the only one was listening to her. Falcon was pacing agitatedly back and forth. Hope was sobbing in a corner. Lucy was just struck by how three people she knew so well could be the primary suspects…and now Peter still suspected everyone. Anyone in Cair Paravel could be guilty of Reynald's murder in his opinion.

"Lucy, don't worry about it." Mike's voice was flat. He didn't understand why he'd been convicted any more than she did. He felt hurt and betrayed that the High King thought he might have killed Reynald. When had he ever been disloyal? "Don't get yourself involved. It will only end up worse."

Lucy looked reluctant. "Well…alright." She glanced across at Falcon, worry etching across her face. "Can you…can you make sure he's okay, Mike? Make sure that he eats and everything. I think he's taken this the hardest."

Mike couldn't disagree with her there and he nodded. "Sure."

Lucy couldn't understand her brother's motives. She didn't think any of these three would have murdered Reynald…well, perhaps Hope, but not Falcon or Mike. More likely, it was an Outlander spy disguised as a refugee. Somehow, she felt that Peter was up to something. That he had a plan to deal with the murderer. Only, why did he think it might have been the people that were closest to him?


	4. Dessert and Archery

**Chapter Three: Dessert and Archery**

**A/N: Wow! 38 reviews already! You guys are awesome. A huge thanks to: Luli Cullen, princess emma of narnia, shippolove844, Elizabeth Zara, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, kyra3015, wolves-rain-chick, Rayven49, EcoSeeker247, CityGirl13, echelonhay07, FelipeMarcusThomas and Rogue Elf Princess!**

**I know Peter's being a prat, but he does have his reasons…you'll just have to wait and find out what they are. Also, there's a poll on my profile, so you can vote for who you think killed Lord Reynald. Oh, and happy Easter to all of you!**

* * *

Peter buried his face in his hands and wondered how good a High King he really was. After the suspects had been announced, Peter had immediately announced that the remaining refugees were to relocate from Cair Paravel to the western woods. There was an uproar at there, but after Reynald's death and the fact that the murderer was still at large, Peter would have it no other way.

Edmund wasn't talking to him. Despite the heavy weight that had pressed down on Peter's shoulders since naming the suspects, this hurt him the most. Edmund was angry that Peter had named Safara as one of the suspects. Peter had tried to speak to him at breakfast the morning after the accusations had been made, but once Edmund had seen Peter was in the dining room, he'd turned and stalked out.

Sir Tarin was the first to be interviewed. Peter had known him as a charming womanizer, but there was no evidence of that in the nervous young man who now sat before the High King. Tarin was pale and shaking, leaving Peter to wonder if this was just him concerned…or if he really was responsible for Reynald's death.

"Alright," Peter sighed heavily, hating this – hating that he was questioning people he knew as though they were strangers. "What were you doing at the time of Reynald's death, Tarin?"

Tarin swallowed hard. "I…yes, I was down at the kitchens at the time. I _know _that there have been strict regulations since the refugees arrived…but all I wanted was a small slice of cake. I was just hungry." He seemed to gain a little confidence. "That young lady from Archenland…Aerilyn…she can confirm it. I passed her by as I was heading back up to my quarters."

Peter's shoulders slumped. Here was Tarin, a young nobleman accused of murder, and what had he been doing at the time? Eating _dessert_. Peter felt incredibly foolish. He was picking on the people closest to him and although he knew that this was for their own good, he still felt stupid.

"Thanks, Tarin. You can go now."

The young nobleman couldn't get away quick enough. The library door slammed closed behind him and Peter raked back his hair with a heavy sigh. How many people hated him now? Well, it would be easier to ask which few people in Cair Paravel still liked him. This was a challenge for Peter, because he was only realizing now that he couldn't always be a fair King and a popular King at the same time.

* * *

The next person to come and see Peter was, to his great surprise, Lucy. There was a certain steel in his younger sister's eyes as she caught him by the arm and whirled him around. Peter's heart sank even further down as he realized that even his baby sister was against him.

"You have to let them out of the dungeons." Lucy's tone was fierce. She shook her head and exhaled deeply. "Peter, this is wrong. They're not animals and they're certainly not criminals. Hope, Mike and Falcon are people you _know._ I might not understand why you convicted them, but Aslan's mane, Peter, open your eyes. This isn't how you treat people."

"I'm supposed to let them roam free?" Peter's blue eyes narrowed. "Lucy, I don't think you understand…"

Lucy actually stamped her foot in frustration. "I am eighteen, Peter. I am not a child and I am _sick _of you thinking that I don't _understand._ I think that I understand a whole lot better than you do. Keep them guarded if you want, but don't lock them up. It's no wonder that it's Edmund who was crowned the Just King."

Her last words were like a slap to the face, but Peter tried not to let it show. He couldn't tell Lucy his reasons. He couldn't tell anyone his reasons, because that would be defeating the whole purpose. He didn't know who the murderer was, but he had a way of finding out.

"Fine." Peter relented and a small smile crossed Lucy's lips. "But they're to be on round-the-clock guard, do you hear me, Lucy?"

Lucy grinned and wrapped her arms around Peter, hugging him like she had when she'd been little and for just a moment, Peter let himself smile. That seemed to be everyone's reaction around Lucy. She was just such a likable person. No one could ever hate Lucy.

"Thank you, Peter!"

* * *

Aerilyn was the next person Peter interviewed. When she entered the library – which Peter had chosen because it was often where Edmund met with his spies – and offered him a crooked smile, Peter got the shock of his life.

Aerilyn was the copper-haired girl from his dreams. Older now, bitter and scarred – yet still the same person. Peter felt a surge of pity for her and wondered if the Outlanders had given her those scars. She sat down across from Peter with the poise of a well brought up young lady.

"So what's your excuse then?"

Aerilyn shrugged non-chalantly and tossed back her hair like she wasn't taking this seriously. The hint of a smile lingered about her lips.

"Well, at the time of Lord Reynald's death, I happened to be practising my archery."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "In the middle of the night?"

Aerilyn's smile was wiped clean from her face and something sparked within those blue-green eyes, something sinister.

"You don't know me, Peter Pevensie. I happen to have my own reasons for what I do and I don't have to share them with you. Besides, Tarin saw me on my way down to the targets, just as he was walking up to his rooms with some cake."

This tied in so seamlessly with Tarin's story that Peter knew Aerilyn wasn't lying to him. She might be a strange young woman, but she wasn't a liar. She wouldn't have had the chance to speak with Tarin since his interview earlier.

Peter gave his consent for Aerilyn to leave and wearily wondered how much more of this tedious stuff he'd have to go through. He was intrigued by Aerilyn and wanted to know more about her. How had she escaped the Outlanders? What had happened to her? Where was her younger sister, Delilah?

Peter believed in fate. How could he not, with all of this occurring? He'd had dreams about Aerilyn and the next thing he knew, she was in Cair Paravel. It wasn't just coincidence. It must be Aslan's will. Perhaps Aerilyn could help him solve this murder. All Peter knew was that Aerilyn had not come to Narnia by accident.

* * *

The first thing Mike did was go to see Violet. He needed to know that she, at least, didn't believe the rumours of him being the murderer. Being one of the prime suspects, he had noticed the whispers about him. His reputation had been ruined, thanks to _High King Peter._ Mike ground his teeth at the mention of the man's name. He thought Peter had trusted him – and then this had happened.

"Violet? Are you there?"

Mike hammered on her door. There was a muffled reply from inside the room – but it wasn't his name that Violet called out with obvious excitement. In fact, it sounded a lot like 'Falcon?'. Violet opened the door and the smile on her face faltered slightly.

"Oh." She sounded disappointed.

"Expecting someone else, were you?" Mike demanded of her. He felt protective of her – she was like his little sister. What did Falcon have to do with her? He found himself growing angry. Falcon was six years older than Violet. It just seemed…wrong.

"_No_," Violet retorted, but her cheeks were flushed bright red. Mike noticed that she couldn't meet his gaze and his stomach started doing weird contortions. She didn't want to be seen with him. She thought _he _was the murderer. She was ashamed of him. "Look, umm…I just think it's best that we're not seen together right now. I mean, with everything that's going on…"

Violet still refused to look at him. Mike ground his teeth. How long now had he been trying to prove himself? He'd defected from the Outlanders and had to prove his worth to the Narnians. Did they still think he could be a traitor?

"You think I'm a killer." Mike laughed mirthlessly. "Violet, don't you know me better than that?"

"It's not that," Violet replied earnestly, but her refusal to meet his eyes made Mike sure she was lying. Everything she said…it was all lies. Why wouldn't she just look at him? "Mike, please. I just want this to be over as much as you do. But until then…"

"Okay." Mike practically snarled the word. "If that's how you feel. Just remember, _Violet_, who saved you from Jadis."

Violet's eyes flicked up to meet his in shock – and he saw the guilt in her eyes. Then she slammed the door in his face. Mike's hands clenched into fists and the sound of footsteps echoed off the stone walls.

Mike whirled around to see Falcon coming towards him, slowing his steps. Suddenly Mike was irrationally angry. Falcon was here to see Violet as well. Each of them thought the other was the murderer. Mike glowered at the younger man, letting him know exactly how he felt about him. Falcon's lips curved into a dry smile and he inclined his head. _This is war._

* * *

Safara was enraged at the prospect of being a suspect – and she wasn't the only one. Edmund had almost acted as if it had been an insult to his person when Safara had been accused. Feeling sour, Safara decided to see if she could speak to the other suspects…because suddenly, everyone in Cair Paravel was avoiding her like the plague, Princess or not.

Aerilyn was walking down the corridor, having just left the library where Peter was questioning the suspects. Safara felt hope – perhaps this incident meant that she could grow closer to Aerilyn, a fellow suspect. She called the young woman's name.

"Hey, do you want to come and have a drink in my quarters with me? Perhaps we can plan to murder someone else!"

Safara's rage leant her daring and she raised her voice at this last part. Aerilyn's eyebrows knitted into a frown and she glanced around before walking towards Safara.

"It is not wise to make jokes about things like that."

Safara shrugged as if she couldn't care less. She had always been one to speak her mind and that wasn't about to change now.

"Whatever. My offer still stands. We suspects have to stick together, right?" She laughed mirthlessly.

Aerilyn considered the Princess. It was ironic, really – the title of 'Princess' for a girl who was so reckless, so sharp-tongued. It didn't suit Safara at all. Yet despite Aerilyn's natural mistrust of…well, everyone…she found herself warming to open, loud-mouthed Safara.

"Alright then."

She followed Safara to the quarters that the Princess shared with her husband, the Just King. It seemed strange being in someone else's room, especially the room of a member of the royal family. Aerilyn stood to the side a little awkwardly as Safara fiddled in the drawers of the cabinets, pulling out a bottle of wine and a bottle of water. She slid the bottle of wine across to Aerilyn and then noticed how uncomfortable the red-haired young woman seemed.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I completely forgot to ask you to sit down. Come on, take a seat."

Aerilyn pulled up a chair and watched as Safara started gulping down the water. She tilted her head to the side.

"You're not having any wine?"

Safara blinked as if she didn't comprehend, then shook her head slowly.

"Nah. Not really in the mood right now."

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, Safara gulping down the water and Aerilyn taking tentative sips of the wine. She was fully aware that the Princess was just welcoming her into her life with open arms – something that nobody had done since Aerilyn had come to bare her scars. She felt a surge of gratitude towards the younger woman.

"Well." Safara slammed the bottle of water down. "I wasn't exactly much back on Earth. I suppose you haven't heard of Earth, have you?"

On the contrary, the mention of Earth sent chills down Aerilyn's spine. The Outlanders had been from Earth originally. That had been something she'd never forgotten – yet she couldn't hold that against Safara.

"It's a different world. It's…where I'm from." Safara laughed almost bitterly. "But it's funny. Because when I first came here, I thought that Edmund hated me. Then I found out I was part of…something. I was here to bring down the Outlanders and Jadis. Well, I managed to kill Jadis…but the Outlanders, as you know, are still at large."

Aerilyn marvelled at Safara's ability to be so…open. With Aerilyn, it had always been mystery and secrets. Now she glanced incredulously at this girl, who opened her mouth and just let out her life story like it was no big deal. She had trusted Aerilyn and didn't expect anything in return…so Aerilyn took another swig of wine for courage, and decided to let Safara in, just a little.

"My life was…difficult." Aerilyn pressed her lips together. "I was seventeen when my father and older sister Tanwen were killed by Outlanders – and so I despise them. Tanwen was going to be married. I hate them because of what they took away from me, what I can never get back…" She took a shuddering sigh, seeming to realize that she'd said more than she intended.

Safara watched her quietly for a few moments before she grew bold enough to lean forward and ask quietly, "And your scars?"

Aerilyn shook her head fervently. She couldn't talk about it, not that. It was a story she didn't wish to share with anyone, not even Safara. She hadn't really ever had friends and she supposed one day she might tell the truth…but not now. Not when she was suspected of murdering a Narnian lord.

"I don't…I don't want to talk about it."

Safara nodded sympathetically. "Righteo. If that's the case, just take another sip. I tend to find that alcohol drowns the pain."

Aerilyn vaguely wondered what sort of pain Safara had ever experienced as she lifted the glass bottle to her lips and let the liquid fire burn its way down her throat.


	5. Don't Doubt Me

**Chapter Four: Don't Doubt Me**

**A/N: Yay some of you reviewers are just so clever with your theories! Some of you will find out how right you are in this chapter, but others might have to wait a little while…a huge thanks to: princess emma of narnia, Rogue Elf Princess, Luli Cullen, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, Elizabeth Zara, EcoSeeker247, FelipeMarcusThomas, Rayven49, CityGirl13, shippolove844 and firefly.1212**

* * *

Peter was a little troubled when Edmund requested to speak with him before Safara's interview. He was fully prepared for his younger brother to shout at him, to demand that Safara be let off the hook…so Peter braced himself. What he _wasn't_ expecting, however was an Edmund who entered with a devastated expression on his face. He was picking at his nails in the way he always did when he was nervous.

"Ed?" Peter's brow furrowed in astonishment as his younger brother sat down across from him with a grim expression. "Look, I know you're annoyed about how I accused Safara. You see, the thing is…well, I can tell you because you're one of the few people I can trust now. I've never really been one for reverse psychology, but I think that by accusing those people closest to us…"

Edmund's eyes glimmered. "They'll think they're off the hook. Yes, I completely understand what you're doing, Peter. I was angry at first because Safara was involved…but then I realized that those who have been accused are the safest, because the real killer wouldn't dare murder one of them."

He licked his dry lips and shook his head. "I'm not here to berate you. I'm here because…on the night of Lord Reynald's murder, Safara wasn't in our room. That's the problem. I don't know where she was."

Peter's heart lurched. His plan might involve the false accusations towards those the Pevensies knew best – as well as some who might really be responsible – but Peter still didn't wholly trust anyone at the moment besides his siblings.

"What?" His voice was little more than a whisper. "Do – do you think that she might be responsible?"

"I don't know," Edmund's voice cracked with misery, "I don't want to suspect her…but she won't tell me anything, Peter. I'm really starting to get worried…about her."

Peter nodded understandingly. He couldn't even begin to understand his brother's frustration. That was the real question: where had Safara been that fateful night, and why wouldn't she even tell Edmund, the person she trusted and loved with all her heart?

"What do you want me to do?" Peter asked, his voice little more than a mutter.

Edmund just shrugged. "What you have to. Question her. See if you can find out the truth, because I certainly can't. She hasn't even told Lucy. Peter…what if it was her?"

Peter shook his head slowly. He didn't want to believe that Safara could be the killer. He had to stop himself – and Edmund, admittedly – from jumping to conclusions. He moved around the desk where he spent most of his time since Lord Reynald's murder, and placed a comforting hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"I promise you, Ed, I'll do whatever's in my power to get Safara to tell me the truth. It could be nothing."

Edmund laughed mirthlessly. "If it was 'nothing', Peter, then why is she trying so hard to hide it from me?"

* * *

Safara entered the library and Peter suppressed a weary sigh when he saw the fire burning in her eyes. To be honest, it burned all through her. Great…his 5'2, daily dose of attitude. Despite the fact that Peter hadn't liked Safara much when she'd first come to Narnia, he'd grown to like the girl now. Believing that she could be responsible for something as atrocious as Reynald's murder was a hard thing to grasp.

"Please sit down." He gestured to the chair across from him.

Safara gave a mocking curtsy and stomped across the room, sitting down and folding her arms across her chest in a manner that indicated she was clearly unimpressed.

"Edmund tells me that you weren't in your room on the night Reynald was murdered."

An almost vicious smile crossed Safara's mouth. "Did he really, now? Wow. He must be extremely _concerned._"

Peter ground his teeth. Aslan's mane, this girl could be frustrating.

"He _is_, Safara. It's not something to joke about. Where were you that night?"

Safara clambered to her feet, slamming her small fists down on the desk. Peter honestly didn't know why she was so infuriated – well, other than the fact that she was being accused of murder. But if she hadn't committed it, why wouldn't she give her alibi?

"If it was _any _of your business, _Peter_," she snarled at him, "I'd let you know. Does that sound cool?"

Actually, it didn't sound cool at all. Safara was acting very suspicious and although she might have a valid excuse, Peter wasn't going to put up with this attitude from her. She had to respect the fact that he was carrying out an investigation and she needed to play her part.

"Since when have I given you reason to doubt me?" Safara demanded, planting her hands on her hips and glaring. "I distinctly remember killing Jadis. I've done nothing in the past two years that's made you doubt your judgment in me. I've done nothing to rouse Edmund's suspicion. So why don't the pair of you just _bugger off_?"

Peter closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, forcing himself to keep his calm. It was hard, when Safara yelled at him, not to yell right back. She was clearly upset and he didn't just want to work this up into a fight.

"Alright. Well then can you give me a reason _why _you don't want to tell me? There's no need to be rude about it."

Safara sat down hard and immediately flushed a bright crimson red. _Oh, no…_Peter had the horrible suspicion that he knew exactly what Safara had been up to that fateful night…and it hadn't been anything good.

"It's private," she insisted, then bit her lip as if she'd said too much. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry for firing up at you, but…well, the thing is, I'm not ready to tell anybody yet. It really is a personal matter and the first person I tell will be Edmund. I hope you can understand that."

Peter couldn't, because he didn't know what Safara's reasons were. He was just confused now, and very apprehensive. He thought he knew about Safara's secrecy, why she was so reluctant to tell anyone else…

"Fine. You can go now, Safara."

She did so with a shrug of her shoulders and a toss of her hair.

* * *

Whenever Susan went to practise archery, it seemed Aerilyn was always there. She found the scarred young woman strange and was wary of her…but she was a Queen of Narnia and knew to show her manners. Hoisting a polite smile across her lovely features, Susan crossed over to join Aerilyn.

"You practise archery a lot."

Aerilyn's eyes narrowed as she focused on the target, before she turned to face Susan with a grim smile.

"Yes. Well, I want to be able to shoot any enemies who mean me harm."

Susan wanted to ask exactly who might mean Aerilyn harm, but as her eyes roved over the scars on the young woman's face, she understood why Aerilyn was like this. Of course she thought she had enemies. Susan pitied her. After a few moments of silence, Susan nocked an arrow and for some time the two young women just stood there, shooting arrows at the targets.

"You shoot well," Susan observed after a while, turning to offer Aerilyn a smile. "Who exactly taught a lady of Archenland such skills?"

Aerilyn lowered her bow and by her livid expression, Susan guessed that her comment was not a welcome one. Aerilyn moved over to the target and yanked the arrows from the middle before she stalked across to the Gentle Queen.

"Listen, your Majesty. You're a fine archer and you seem like you're a nice person and everything. So all I'm going to say is that my family was slaughtered before my eyes and I was attacked…so ever since, I've had to learn to defend myself. Because if I ever find the people who ruined my life…"

She fit one of the arrows to her bow and aimed for an apple hanging from one of the trees up ahead. It whizzed across and pierced the fruit right through the middle. Aerilyn was already walking back towards the castle as the apple hit the ground, split precisely in two.

* * *

"Safara, we need to talk." Edmund's voice was dangerously low as he confronted Safara in the corridor. Her eyes widened and she made to dart past him, but he was sick of playing games. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the arms, whirling her around and slamming her against the wall. Edmund placed his arms either side of Safara's head so that she couldn't get away from him.

"Leave me alone, Ed," Safara warned.

Edmund was having none of it. "Tell me, Safara – tell me the truth. Do you love me?"

Safara nodded fervently. "Of course! Why would you even ask me that?"

Edmund sighed heavily. If only Safara wasn't behaving this suspiciously! If only he didn't have to resort to manhandling his wife and practically forcing her into telling him the truth. He moved away from the wall and started to pace back and forth. Safara just watched him.

"Because I don't understand you anymore. You're keeping things from me. I thought we told each other everything…but now I'm starting to think that you're betraying me. That you're betraying _Narnia._"

Safara's eyes widened with horror. "Edmund, I would never! The only reason I don't want to tell you is because…I'm scared, okay? I'm scared of what you might think. I don't know how you're going to react."

Edmund shrugged. "I was scared of confronting Jadis. I still did it. You need to let go of your fears, Safara. Dammit, why won't you just tell me? I'm giving you every chance to clear your name. But maybe Peter has a right to be suspicious. Perhaps you really did kill Lord Reynald."

Safara's eyes narrowed and she shook her head vigorously.

"I didn't," she insisted, "I promise you, I swear on Milla's grave, I wasn't the one who killed Lord Reynald, okay?"

Edmund advanced on Safara and his tone became lethally quiet.

"Then what were you doing? Because you weren't with me…and if you're not going to tell me, then I have every reason to be concerned. Are you being disloyal, Safara? Is there another man who can love you better than I do?"

Safara's eyes flickered and she bared her teeth. How could Edmund even say that to her? She pushed him violently away from her and started to stalk away.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped at him.

"Is it Falcon?" Edmund called, his tone bitter, as she kept walking. Safara froze and whirled around and for a horrifying moment, Edmund thought that that was what it was. Then he saw the conflict of emotions within her eyes and he knew that he had unintentionally dived into something far deeper.

Safara started walking back towards Edmund. "You're an idiot if you really believe that. I mean, seriously, Falcon? Ew. He's like my brother, Edmund."

She was stalling. Of course it wasn't Falcon – but who else would it be? Edmund wracked his mind, but couldn't think of anyone else. Safara moved over to him and he braced himself, thinking she might hit him…but then she put her arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace.

"I love you, Edmund," she murmured in his ear, "I only wish you'd trust me."

"Then stop pushing me away," he muttered back, his lips grazing her neck, "Let me in, Safara. Just tell me what the problem is. I don't care how big it is."

Safara wriggled free, biting her lip. "It's…a pretty big problem." She took a deep breath. "You see, the night of Lord Reynald's murder, I went to see the healers in the infirmary. I've been a little worried later because…umm, it's kind of weird to talk about, but I missed my period and I was thinking that maybe…"

She pressed her face into her hands and shook her head and when she finally composed herself and looked back up at Edmund, he was horrified to see that she was crying. Safara practically _never _cried.

"You're going to be a father, Ed." Then, just in case he hadn't got it, she dropped the bombshell. "I'm pregnant."


	6. These Scars

**Chapter Five: These Scars**

**A/N: Again, a huge thanks to: princess emma of narnia, Remember September, Rogue Elf Princess, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, FelipeMarcusThomas, Rayven49, Luli Cullen, HorcruxesandHallows, ISolemnlySwearIAmUpToNoGood, EcoSeeker247, xlivilightx, shippolove844, Gangster1995, CityGirl13, earth17, echelonhay07**

**Watch Violet carefully in this chapter. See if you can add together the pieces of the puzzle. It's probably a bit early to really tell what's happening yet, but you know…**

**This chapter involves what happened to Aerilyn. It's only her telling Safara, so it's nothing too graphic, however I must warn you that this chapter contains mentions of torture and rape. I'm sorry that it's a bit dark.**

* * *

Falcon's hands were clenched into fists and his grey eyes glimmered with suppressed anger as he entered the library, closing the door behind him before he crossed the room and slumped into the seat opposite Peter. He folded his arms across his chest, his tense demeanour indicating that he clearly resented being suspected of Lord Reynald's murder.

"You want to know what I was doing?" Falcon leaned forward and thumped a fist down on the table. "I don't think you have _any _right to know what I was doing, Peter...but fine. I was visiting Milla's grave and paying my respects. There. Are you happy now?"

Peter sighed heavily. If only he could be happy with such an explanation! The only problem was that it was so…vague. No one had seen Falcon go down to the site where the graves were and Peter knew he was insulting him by questioning him…except he had to. He couldn't afford to let people's feelings get in the way. Everyone in Narnia was looking to him to solve the murder. He was a young King and he could already hear some of them whispering their doubts. That he couldn't stand.

"Not really. Are you _sure _that's what you were doing, Falcon? As long as you weren't committing a crime, this is confidential. I can keep a secret, you know."

Falcon laughed bitterly and the chair made a noise of protest as it grated across the floor. The young man stood to his feet, his eyes flashing danger as he glowered down at the High King. He jabbed an accusing finger at Peter.

"Alright then, Peter. You want to talk? Let's talk. Have you ever loved someone and then had that person die? Have you ever spent every single day of your life wishing them back? Have you ever stood at their grave and tried not to cry because they'd want you to be brave?"

Falcon spat out the words like they were poison and Peter felt immense pity for the young man. In his anger, Falcon was divulging everything. Peter knew now exactly how he felt about Milla and knew that he wasn't lying about visiting her grave. Immediately, he felt guilty for doubting him.

"I'm sorry, Falcon." Those words were so hard to say. Peter liked to think things were never his fault – but lately he'd begun to realize that wasn't always true. "I shouldn't have questioned you about Milla."

Falcon sneered. "Damn straight. You can't always be right, Peter. In fact, a lot of us are wrong. The only thing I'm glad about is that you're starting to see that for yourself."

* * *

"So, I hear you're pregnant."

It had now become the customary arrangement for Aerilyn to come and spend time with Safara in her chambers. They would talk and Aerilyn would sometimes have a little wine, but never enough to allow her to open the floodgates and unleash her past. Information came to Safara in little bits, but she was patient. Eventually, Aerilyn would choose to disclose the truth, but only in her own time. It was too fragile a topic for Safara to push.

"Yeah, you're right."

Aerilyn nodded slowly. "Congratulations. Do you know how many weeks?"

Safara shrugged. "Only a few. Six weeks, I think."

Edmund had reacted rather favorably. Despite the fact that he was twenty and she was nineteen, he had taken to the news happily. Safara had been reluctant to spread the news just in case something happened to the baby, but Edmund was so excited about becoming a father that he had insisted they tell everyone. Safara was also let off the hook for Reynald's murder.

"Calm down," Safara had told Edmund as he practically bounced around the place, "This baby doesn't need a father that's less mature than he is."

"She," Edmund had corrected.

Safara had rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'll call my baby whatever I want. It's _your _fault I'm pregnant, after all."

"I hear you're practising archery again," Safara smiled, "Apparently, that's all you ever really do. You must have a fascination with archery."

Aerilyn's blue-green eyes shimmered dangerously and narrowed. Her grip around her glass of wine tightened.

"Well…I wouldn't call it a fascination, exactly. I'm just determined that if I ever meet those Outlanders again, I can get them right in the heart. Or perhaps not. Maybe I'll make them suffer and severe a main artery so they can bleed to death."

Safara was shocked. She hadn't ever heard Aerilyn sound so ruthless and she wondered exactly what had happened to make this young woman so bitter, for about the millionth time. It was probably the same thing everyone else was thinking.

"Will…will you tell me what happened?"

Aerilyn considered Safara for a matter of moments before she sighed heavily and swept back a strand of copper hair.

"I suppose I'd have to tell someone eventually. But you are not to breathe a word of what I say to anyone, not even your husband. I'll tell other people when I feel the time is right and if that's never…so be it."

Safara nodded fervently and Aerilyn exhaled deeply. Her hands were shaking and she set aside her wine glance and averted her eyes as she began to tell her tale in a monotone.

"I already told you that I was seventeen when my father and Tanwen were killed. What I never told you was why. What I never told you was that I had a younger sister, too. Her name was Delilah and she was the sweetest little girl in any country…" Aerilyn licked her lips and closed her eyes. "My father may not have been rich, but he was trusted by many. I don't quite know how the White Witch's scepter came into possession, because he never really spoke of it save with Tanwen. So when the Outlanders came for it, all I knew was that it had to be taken away. I'd heard the tales of its terrible power, so I gave it to my younger sister Delilah. She ran, but…I didn't."

Safara suddenly went cold, shivering at the mere memory of the White Witch's scepter and at the fact that no one knew where it was now. It had been in Jadis's possession and it was highly suspected that the Outlanders had taken it with them after her demise…but they couldn't be sure.

"The leader of the group was a young man named Ran. He wasn't much older than me, around eighteen or nineteen. I wouldn't tell him where the scepter was so they captured me, determined to find it…"

Aerilyn pressed her face into her hands and Safara thought she was going to stop talking about it. She wouldn't have blamed her. But Aerilyn felt like now she'd started telling Safara, she couldn't stop. All of the hate and all of the pain just poured out of her and she couldn't stop it.

"I was taken to their camp and Ran was given the job of…extracting the scepter's location from me. His favourite kind of torture involved a knife."

She didn't need to say what had happened. Safara knew how cruel Ran could be. She remembered how he'd sliced her during their battle at the Outlander's camp. It had been agony…and yet Aerilyn bore the horrible reminders all over her arms, her legs…her face…

Aerilyn's mouth twisted in a bitter, barbed wire smile.

"Every day I remained a prisoner, he would carve a line into my face to remind me…to remind me who was in power. To remind me that he had absolute control. I thought the torment would end there, but it only got worse…because Ran realized I wasn't going to tell him where my sister was, where the scepter was…so he used an alternative method…"

Tears were spilling down Aerilyn's cheeks now and Safara pitied her, just wanted to reach out to her – but she couldn't. Safara saw the five scars on Aerilyn's face and wondered what had happened after those five days. Had she escaped?

"I didn't ever think it would get so bad." Aerilyn whispered, sounding for a moment like the seventeen-year-old girl who had suffered all of this terrifying abuse. "He came to me one day and he…he came without the knife. He pinned me down and forced himself onto me and…and I couldn't stop him from taking my innocence. I fought so hard, but it wasn't hard enough."

Safara clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress her shock. Aslan's mane…no wonder Aerilyn was so bitter. Not only had Ran tortured her, but he had raped her as well. She swallowed back tears of her own.

"He came back the next day and did the same thing, but when he got out his knife to mark my cheek…" Aerilyn's eyes flamed with loathing. "I did the best I could, but it's a shame I missed his heart. However, he was badly injured enough that I managed to escape."

"I never knew," Safara felt guilty for asking Aerilyn for the truth, a truth she now wished she didn't know. It was personal and Aerilyn had every right to keep it from her. "I'm…I'm so sorry, Aerilyn. I'd never tell anyone about that. If I had known that that was what happened to you…"

Aerilyn's smile was almost mocking. "Well, now you do know. I wonder if you'll live with the knowledge of it every day, like I must."

* * *

"At least it's good to see that Peter's not flirting with girls lately," Lucy stated dryly as her oldest brother disappeared into the library, running his hands through his blond hair and looking weary. "He's actually starting to gain a sense of responsibility."

Lucy and Violet were heading towards the dining room for dinner. They had both been out watching the soldiers running through their drills, Mike among them. Violet had paid the utmost attention, confessing that she hoped to one day become a female soldier like the Princess Safara. In all honesty, Lucy had found it rather boring.

"Well, he is the High King," Violet admitted, tying her curly dark hair in a ponytail, "He's bound to come around sooner or later and he can't go chasing girls forever. He'll have to marry eventually."

Lucy hoped so. Peter was known for his promiscuous ways around the women and Lucy often despaired of this. She personally believed in saving herself until she was married, but she knew that both of her brothers did not hold this value. Lucy wasn't sure about Susan, who was always very enigmatic about her relationships. Perhaps that was why Lucy was viewed as so innocent, because she relished the knowledge that she was pure. Why would throw something like that away to someone who might not even care?

"What do you think, Violet?" Lucy asked, suddenly requiring the opinion of someone else on the matter. She didn't know why it was so important right at this moment. "Do you think that…well, do you believe in saving yourself for marriage?"

Violet looked a little startled at the question. She was fifteen, so old enough to have a mature say on the matter. However, Lucy's question had caught her off-guard. Her dark eyes widened. Well, if they were talking about the matter of Peter Pevensie, who seemed to flirt with all the pretty girls…

"I'm not really sure. Because I mean, back in 2015, it's like, everyone was doing it."

Lucy's eyes flew upwards. How much the world had changed since the 1940s, when that sort of promiscuous behaviour was highly frowned up and waiting for marriage was a respectable decision. She supposed the morals of the society she'd been brought up in still affected her now.

"Oh. Well, things have certainly changed from my time, then." Lucy gazed questioningly at Violet. "What about you? As in, personally?"

Violet flushed, clearly embarrassed at having been asked. "Oh, well. I'm not really sure. You know, it kind of depends on the person and if they're mature enough…" She cleared her throat. "Umm. Well, I think I'm going to get Safara for dinner. I'll see you later."

Suspicions ran riot in Lucy's mind as Violet hurried off. Her theories mainly revolved around Violet and the night of Lord Reynald's death, and that perhaps the youngest of them wasn't exactly as innocent as she seemed. Still lost in thought, Lucy made her way towards the dining room, unaware that the exchange between she and Violet had not gone unobserved.


	7. Time Ticking Away

**Chapter Six: Time Ticking Away**

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews from ILuvZeroandPockyyum, Rogue Elf Princess, princess emma of narnia, Elizabeth Zara, Luli Cullen, shippolove844, Rayven49, FelipeMarcusThomas, CityGirl13, earth17 and echelonhay07**

**Also next chapter, the murderer is revealed! So if you haven't voted on the poll on my profile, do so ASAP and next chapter you'll see if you were right. And tell me what you think: Peter/Hope or Peter/Aerilyn?**

* * *

Peter had not been looking forward to interviewing Hope. In fact, he had been wary about all of the people he'd interviewed, knowing that they wouldn't be pleased because of what he'd done. However, it was his former lover that troubled him the most. She entered the library and closed the door behind her, and when she turned to face him, he could see the hurt in her eyes. That hit him like a slap to the face. Anger and frustration he could take, but not this. Peter opened his mouth to invite Hope to sit down, but she raised a hand and shook her head slowly.

"Please don't, Peter. Don't pretend like we are just acquaintances again. I am sick of formalities, especially because you don't seem to trust me. I know you want an alibi and mine is simple: I was asleep at the time of Lord Reynald's murder."

Peter shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Dessert, archery, healers, graves…this was the simplest alibi yet, but also the one he was inclined to doubt. Of course everyone slept – but was there anyone who could account for Hope being in her quarters at that time? She saw the doubt in his eyes and tears welled in her own.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, "I thought you knew me better. I never thought I would see the day when you would accuse me of being a murderer!"

Peter didn't think something like this would ever happen in Cair Paravel, but things were changing. The Outlanders were on the move and while there was every likelihood that it was one of them, he had to keep those he trusted close to him, in the most confusing way possible.

"I love you," Hope murmured, averting her eyes and letting her hair fall into her face, "I tried so hard to be rid of my feelings for you…but now I know the truth, Peter. You can avoid me if you like – but I don't approve of being framed for something we both know I haven't done."

Hope moved closer, so close that Peter could see the tears clinging to her lashes. It was too close for comfort and yet…he couldn't push her away. His feelings for her were a confused mess at the moment, especially when there were much more important things going on right now.

"Don't start this," he warned her, "Not now, Hope. Perhaps when this is all over we can sort things out…but at the moment, I can't afford to be close to anyone."

It was ironic, really. Peter had embarked on affairs with women before – but right now, girls were the furthest thing from his mind and he avoided any kind of romance like the plague. Hope especially was a complicated matter – because they'd been there before and he didn't know if he was willing to sever that bond forever, yet he also wasn't sure whether he wanted to rekindle what they'd had.

"Why would I ever want to kill Reynald?" Hope asked almost tiredly. "Peter, I have never had a desire for bloodshed. You know my people are peaceful."

Peter didn't answer. He didn't know what he could say that would placate Hope without informing her of his true intentions. So far, Edmund was the only one who knew his real reasons. He wasn't sure he was ready for someone else to find out.

* * *

Mike was the next into the library and he was already in a sour mood – and he looked terrible. His blond hair stuck up at all angles and he had a black eye. It looked like he'd been in a fight, but Peter knew it couldn't have been anything too major, because otherwise the guard would have alerted him of it.

"What happened?" Peter asked incredulously as Mike took his seat moodily.

"I got into a fight," Mike muttered, not quite meeting Peter's eyes. "With Falcon. If you think I look bad, you should see him. He's worse. He's got a bloody nose and everything."

Peter's brows furrowed into a frown.

"That's hardly something to brag about Mike. So why exactly were you fighting with Falcon? I thought the two of you were friends."

Mike's head shot up at this and there was something fierce burning in his eyes. Peter wondered if perhaps Mike thought Falcon was the murderer.

"We were," Mike nearly spat, "But…things have been weird lately. I mean, on the night of Lord Reynald's murder I was searching everywhere for Violet, but I couldn't find her anywhere. She just said she was going to have her dessert and…I don't know. Then I came to her rooms to visit her when I'd been let out of the dungeons and she thought that I was Falcon. Then Falcon came around the corner, probably intending to see Violet as well. What's worse is that just yesterday, I overheard a conversation between Lucy and Violet that makes me think that Violet's…umm, well…not as innocent as I thought."

By the way Mike's cheeks flamed, Peter suddenly understood everything immediately. Mike was angry because Violet was like his little sister – and now it seemed as though Falcon had had an affair with Violet. However, this was inconsistent with Falcon's claim that he'd been visiting Milla's grave at the time of Lord Reynald's murder…and Peter knew by Falcon's emotional outburst that he hadn't been lying about it.

"So you think that Falcon and Violet…?" Peter trailed off, not needing to go into detail.

Mike winced and nodded. "Yeah, because I mean, where else could she have been? If you think about it, it makes sense."

Not to Peter it didn't. He frowned and mentally added Violet to his list of suspects. While Mike had been led to believe that Violet might have been seeing Falcon, Peter knew otherwise…except they still didn't know what Violet _had _been doing that night. It was enough to make the High King suspicious.

"I'm not so sure. In any case, there's no need for brawling. I think you should go and see Falcon and apologize."

"Apologize?" Mike snapped, "What for? Defending Violet's honour?"

_Because I know that Falcon wasn't doing anything of an inappropriate nature with Violet at that time._

"Because what Falcon does is his business. Violet chose not to disclose her whereabouts to you and that's quite fine. You may view yourself as her older brother, but Violet is fifteen. She doesn't need you as a protector when she is more than capable of defending herself." Peter's tone was calm.

Mike looked like he wanted to object, but he ruefully rubbed at his bruised eye and nodded curtly.

"Fine. But I'm not doing this for you, King Peter."

As Mike mooched from the library, Peter sighed heavily, feeling that this hidden enemy was watching them all, turning them against each other and making them question their allegiances. The sooner he identified this murderer, the better.

* * *

The stars were scattered across the night sky, creating a spangled banner above Aerilyn as she ate her dinner quietly in the palace gardens. She had no wish to associate with the other refugees, who were nosy and curious – and despite the fact that Safara had invited her to dine with the nobles (or as Aerilyn rather derisively labelled them, the 'in-crowd'), Aerilyn preferred to be left alone. So when she saw the golden crown upon the head of the man striding towards her, she groaned inwardly.

"Why do you eat out here by yourself?" Peter inquired as he sat down beside her. "It's quite cold out. Surely you want to eat inside?"

Aerilyn glanced almost curiously at the High King. She'd met his younger brother and the older of his two sisters, but he was somewhat an enigma to Aerilyn…just as she was to him. She just shrugged and shoveled another forkful of carrots into her mouth.

"I like it. People don't ask me questions about my scars. I feel like I can breathe outside."

Peter was quiet for a few moments and Aerilyn wondered whether her strangeness had scared him off. Then he offered her that charming smile of his, the one that made her want to smile back…yet at the same time, she was afraid to. Aerilyn didn't like to make friends. That meant she had something to lose.

"You're welcome to eat with my siblings and I in the dining hall. I'm sure that none of them would ask you any questions about your scars."

Aerilyn smiled grimly. "Princess Safara has offered me a place at your table twice and although I'm grateful for the offer, you would soon find that I'm not a very conversational person. I tend to keep more to myself."

Peter laughed. "Yet you're talking to me now. So you can't be all that bad, can you?"

Aerilyn stiffened at his words. Peter desperately wanted her to stop shutting herself away, stop acting cold and aloof when he knew how she really could be…how she had been before the Outlanders. What had befallen Aerilyn to turn her from a cheerful girl into this unsmiling young woman? Who had delivered those scars?

"You want to know why I'm scarred?" Aerilyn asked bitterly as if reading his mind. She laughed sourly. "Oh, of course you do. You _all _do really. Well, I'll tell you: I've had to fight for my life before and I'm all too willing to do it again. So you might think that I'm a sweet person deep down underneath it all, but honestly? My heart is blackened by vengeance."

Peter impulsively seized Aerilyn's cold hand in his. She whipped around, her copper hair whirling behind her like a fan, and her blue-green eyes huge with shock as if no one had ever shown her affection…not since she had lost her beauty. Yet she didn't pull away.

"I know that's not true," Peter said quietly, then heaved a sigh. It had come to the time when he told Aerilyn the truth. "I know what happened to your family and I think I know who hurt you. I've seen you before, in my dreams. I'm beginning to think it's the will of Aslan that we met. I think you can help me, Aerilyn, and I you."

Peter observed her and she looked – there was no other word for it: terrified. She snatched her hand from Peter's and staggered to her feet, seizing her empty plate and fork and glowering down at Peter.

"You know _nothing_ about me," she hissed at him, but her voice was quavering as though she might cry. Then she turned and stormed back inside and Peter knew that this meant they were back to square zero.

* * *

"My God, cravings much?" Falcon watched as Safara piled a heap of cheesecake onto her plate and began to eat ravenously. She offered him a filthy glare and muttered something under her breath, which Edmund quickly translated.

"Safara says she's just hungry."

Falcon snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."

Safara jabbed her fork menacingly in Falcon's direction and swallowed her cheesecake, eyes narrowing.

"Have _you _been pregnant lately?" she demanded of him. "I didn't think so. So just shut up and eat your mousse."

"It could be worse," Edmund muttered across the table to Falcon. "She was trying to eat dirt earlier on."

"Dirt?" Falcon spluttered, staring across at Safara, who looked like she was ready to murder both of them. "You can't be serious."

Edmund nodded. "I don't know. The healers say it's normal, apparently. Dirt has a lot of nutrients or something. So just keep her away from pot plants."

"Oi." Safara smacked Edmund around the back of the head. "_She _can hear you. Besides, you're supposed to be sympathetic to my cause. You're the daddy. Be nice or the kid's going to be a mummy's boy."

"Girl," Edmund corrected. For whatever reason, Safara was insistent that their child would be a boy and Edmund was insistent that it was a girl. Falcon was already amused at the concept of a wild-haired little rag-tag of a thing running around the castle.

"What are you calling him or her?" Lucy asked eagerly. She had been very excited about the fact that she was going to become an aunt and had already started planning the sort of activities she would be participating in with her little niece or nephew.

"Umm." Edmund exchanged a glance with Safara, who shrugged while helping herself to more cheesecake. "Well, Safara's not even two months pregnant yet. I think we're saving the naming until right before the baby's born."

Lucy clasped her hands dreamily. "Oh, your baby is going to be _beautiful._"

"Lu, chill out," Mike laughed at her enthusiasm, but then grew more serious. "The kid hasn't even been born yet. Far from it, actually. There could be a miscarriage. Anything could happen."

Safara had suddenly gone pale and was biting at her lip. Edmund frowned and placed a protective arm around his pregnant wife.

"Can you not say things like that?" he shot at Mike. "It's not exactly…well…you just _don't _say things like that."

"Why not?" Mike asked, folding his arms across his chest. "I mean, it's true. Safara could lose the baby at any stage…"

"Mike, shut the fuck up," snarled Falcon, who had still not gotten over the physical fight he'd had with Mike earlier on. The two glowered at each other, but looked away when there was the sound of a chair scraping back.

Safara staggered to her feet, white as a ghost. "I feel sick." She hurried from the room. Edmund shot a look of pure venom at Mike, before he followed her. Safara had moved into the hallway and pressed her back against the wall, sobbing. Edmund pulled her to him and held her in a close embrace, lightly kissing her forehead.

"He's right, Ed," Safara choked, "You know that I'm reckless – no, don't deny it, you know it's true. What if I lose the baby? I didn't want to end up pregnant this young…but now that I am, I'm so scared. I'm scared that I'm going to stuff this up. I don't want to lose our child."

Edmund couldn't convince her that it was going to be alright, because he didn't know himself. Instead, he just held Safara tight and allowed her to cry into his chest as a feeling of foreboding came over him, too. He was worried and excited at the notion of being a father despite his youth…but Safara was right. Nothing was perfect.


	8. The Murderer Revealed

**Chapter Seven: The Murderer Revealed**

**A/N: A huge thanks for the reviews to: CityGirl13, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, earth17, princess emma of narnia, Rogue Elf Princess, shippolove844, FelipeMarcusThomas, HorcruxesandHallows, wolves-rain-chick, loverofbooks2000, Elizabeth Zara, echelonhay07 and Rayven49**

**Hold on to your seats everyone…the murderer's about to be revealed. Let's see who was right, shall we?**

* * *

"Peter, we need to talk."

The High King slowed his steps and pressed his lips together in a firm line. The last thing he really wanted to do right now was talk to Hope…but he really didn't think he had much of a choice in the matter. He reluctantly turned around to see the naiad standing behind him with her arms folded in disapproval. Peter's stomach lurched unpleasantly. He really didn't want to talk.

"What happened to us?" Hope demanded, tossing back her hair. "We used to be close…and _don't _look at me like that. You really think I'm superficial enough to just care about our physical relationship? We were friends once. You would tell me what's on your mind…you actually cared once."

Her words stung, but Peter wasn't going to let it show. He knew why Hope was upset. Not only had he shunned her since she'd arrived at Cair Paravel, but now he accused her of being a murderer. It had to hurt and he knew he had been nothing but rude towards her. Peter didn't want this, except he couldn't let anyone in, not when someone might be the killer. In all honesty he didn't think that it was Hope…yet there was still something in the way, a barrier that he couldn't identify.

"What changed?" Hope whispered as she drew closer, unfolding her arms. "You never used to be like this. Now you're pushing everyone away and you…you've become someone I don't even know anymore. You're not the Peter Pevensie I fell in love with."

Peter licked his lips. "I grew up. Don't you understand, Hope? Please don't expect this of me, not now. When all of this business is finished…"

Hope actually stomped her foot in frustration. "When _will _it be finished though? You have to listen to me, Peter…"

Peter held up a hand to silence her. He already felt tired and this argument with Hope was doing nothing but making him feel wearier. The naiad sighed heavily and took a step forward and only then did Peter realize how close she was. He opened his mouth to say something…but triumph shone in Hope's eyes and her lips curved into a smile, before she pressed her lips to his and kissed him passionately.

Peter gripped Hope by the shoulders and pushed her gently away, before a sharp gasp alerted him to the fact that they weren't alone. Aerilyn stood frozen down the other end of the corridor, her blue-green eyes wide and horrified. Peter started towards her, suddenly feeling guilty for reasons he didn't understand.

"Aerilyn…"

She turned on her heel and ran. Now angry, Peter whirled around to face Hope. Her expression was set and by the determined gleam in her eyes, she had known that Aerilyn was there the whole time. Peter shook his head in disgust.

"I can't believe you, Hope."

Hope shook her head fervently. "Peter, you have to let me speak. There's something important I have to tell you…"

"Save it," Peter snapped at her, "I don't want to hear it. Hear me now, Hope: I don't love you and I doubt I ever will again."

He turned and stalked in the opposite direction, leaving Hope milling around in the corner looking very lost and a little scared, feeling that if Peter wouldn't listen to what her, she would just have to leave Cair Paravel. Let Peter destroy himself. She wasn't going down with him. If he didn't want to know who the real murderer was, so be it.

* * *

Aerilyn staggered blindly down the corridors until she reached her own quarters. She pressed her back against the door as it slammed shut and then her shaking hands went over her face almost protectively. Hope and Peter had been kissing. Why did that affect her so much? Why did that make her feel as though her heart had been torn in two?

Suddenly, it all made sense to Aerilyn and she started to sob into her hands. Aslan's mane, she was in love with Peter. No, she couldn't let herself love him. She'd been afraid of that ever since the gardens, where he'd taken her hand and been so kind to her…but she knew he only pitied her because of her scars. Why would the High King ever want her? Her beauty, her innocence…they had both been violently taken from her.

Aerilyn wouldn't let herself love him. She didn't know how she could stop it, but she had to find a way. After all, she had loved her sisters and her father dearly…and look what had happened to them. When Aerilyn cared about people, it only ever destroyed them. It had been one of the reasons she had been so afraid of making friends with Safara. The fiery Princess had befriended Aerilyn so easily…but Aerilyn knew it couldn't stay that way. Now Safara was pregnant, which made it even worse…because Aerilyn wasn't going to destroy these people, too.

_What do you mean? _A snide voice asked inside her head. _You already have._

* * *

"King Peter?"

Peter whirled around, wondering who was speaking so tentatively to him. It was Sir Tarin, his shoulders tensed and his eyes red-rimmed. The High King was still furious about Hope and he didn't really feel like speaking with anyone else this afternoon. He forced a smile.

"I'm sorry, Tarin, but…"

Tarin swallowed hard. "Your Majesty, it's urgent."

Peter could see the desperation shining in Tarin's eyes…and the guilt. A very unpleasant thought made its way into Peter's mind, but he shook it away. Tarin had given his alibi. He inclined his head and followed the young nobleman to an empty retiring room. After he had locked the door, Peter whirled around and faced Tarin with blazing blue eyes.

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with."

Tarin blinked in astonishment. "What?" Then he realized what Peter was talking about and he threw back his head with a mirthless laugh. "Oh. You think I'm the murderer. That's not what I'm here to tell you…but it's very nearly as bad."

"Then spit it out," Peter said a little impatiently, before he sighed. "Tarin, please. I think all the suspense going on lately is going to bring me to an early grave. Could you just explain yourself?"

Tarin was twisting his hands and refusing to look Peter in the eyes.

"Well…it's about what I was doing on the night of the murder…I just needed to tell you because I feel so guilty about lying to you, but I didn't want to tell the truth…never mind, though. On the night of the murder…I was doing something I really shouldn't have been."

Now Peter thought back to Tarin's nervousness during the interview, it made sense. The young man had practically been terrified and now it made Peter assume that Tarin had been doing something illegal at the time of Lord Reynald's murder.

"I…I slept with Violet."

Peter was shocked. "What?"

Violet was only fifteen years old and Tarin was nineteen, four years her senior. It wasn't a huge age gap, in truth…but she was just so _young._ Mike had incorrectly assumed that Violet had been with Falcon at the time, which was close – except it had been Tarin. Now Peter knew that Tarin and Violet weren't suspects, he felt a sense of relief, yet at the same time, he was still troubled.

"I know I shouldn't have," Tarin's voice was hoarse and by the haunted look in his eyes, he knew just how angry Mike would be when he found out the truth. "Honestly, I just thought she was pretty and well…I did ask her, Peter, and she said she wanted to. But I was just going to take her back to her rooms and I opened the door…and well. Aerilyn saw us. She must have known what had happened…"

Peter suddenly felt sick, very sick. Because Tarin had claimed that Aerilyn had been down practising her archery and Aerilyn claimed that Tarin had been eating some dessert…so if _he _had been lying…

"So you got her to cover for you?" Peter asked hurriedly, almost unable to get the words out quickly enough. "Made her promise not to tell…"

Tarin nodded miserably. "I know, it was wrong of me, but…"

"Tarin." Peter's voice was little more than a whisper, because his heart was pounding a fast tempo in his chest and he knew the truth now, much as he didn't want to. "What was Aerilyn doing at the time?"

The young nobleman frowned in consideration. "I…I actually don't know. But she just promised to cover for me and say I was eating dessert if I said that she'd been down practising archery…"

Peter swore loudly and raced to the door as Tarin watched in bewilderment. He pulled back the bolt and practically threw himself into the corridor, before regaining his dignity and pacing as fast as he could towards Aerilyn's chambers. If she hadn't been practising archery, then Peter had the horrible suspicion he knew exactly what she _had _been doing…the only real question now was why.

He hammered heavily on Aerilyn's door and tried to ignore the fact that his heart seemed like it was straining to beat itself free of his ribcage. He had to pretend that he was here for another reason – perhaps to explain what had happened earlier with Hope.

The door opened a little and Aerilyn peered out at him. When she realized it was Peter, her eyes narrowed and she made to close the door.

"No, Aerilyn. I wish to speak with you. I need to explain what happened."

"I don't want to talk to you!" Aerilyn spat, but his arm prevented her from closing the door and she reluctantly allowed him in, seething. Peter noticed the ruby amulet that glittered around Aerilyn's throat and had to admit that it went well with her hair.

_Stop that! _He chastised himself. _She's a murderer! You shouldn't be admiring her._

"You don't need to explain anything," Aerilyn said flatly, glowering at him as she planted her hands on her hips. "What happened between you and Hope…"

The amulet that hung around Aerilyn's throat looked oddly familiar. Peter raised a hand and she stopped talking, a troubled look coming over her face as she realised he was pointing at the amulet.

"Where did you get that?"

Aerilyn's eyes flashed as she removed the amulet, gripping it tightly as she clenched her hands into fists. From the look in her blue-green eyes, she knew exactly what it was that she held. Peter's suspicions were confirmed and he advanced on the woman. She was shaking her head fervently.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

All of Peter's patience flew out the window. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he lunged at Aerilyn. She stumbled backwards, crashing onto her bed, pulling her arms behind her back to protect the amulet from Peter. Usually Peter showed more restraint, but he knew what that amulet symbolised. He clambered onto Aerilyn, attempting to pull her arms out from underneath her.

Aerilyn struggled futilely beneath him as Peter reached around her and they tussled for the amulet. Of course, Peter being much bigger and stronger, it didn't take him long to wrench the amulet from Aerilyn's grasp.

A smirk crossed Aerilyn's face. "You do know how that would have appeared to onlookers?"

The flush that came over Peter's cheeks told her he knew exactly how it would have looked. He hastily climbed off Aerilyn and held the amulet up, an accusing look in his blue eyes. Who exactly was this woman?

"This amulet belongs to Princess Safara. It was a wedding gift from her husband – I trust you have met King Edmund? How did this come into your possession?"

Aerilyn was silent and Peter was suddenly filled with boiling rage. This young woman had killed Lord Reynald and now this amulet…he shuddered to think what it meant. Was it possible that Safara was her next target? He grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her into the wall, so hard that she winced.

"I know what you've done," he hissed at her, his nails digging her shoulders, "You know the funny thing? I felt so guilty when I saw the look on your face earlier…but now I couldn't give a damn. So why do you have Safara's amulet? Is she next?"

Horror crossed Aerilyn's face and Peter guessed with vicious satisfaction that she hadn't been expecting anyone to catch her. She shook her head fervently, but Peter wasn't buying it. Aerilyn had lied to him before.

"How did you know?" she whispered, turning pale.

"Tarin," Peter replied, "He told me the truth about what he was doing that night and that made realize that you must have lied, too…so by the power invested in me as High King of Narnia, I charge you with the murder of Lord Reynald."

Peter thought he was prepared for Aerilyn's reaction. He had been expecting her eyes to flash. Perhaps she would curse at him or spit at his feet. What he hadn't anticipated was for her to sag against the wall and burst into tears as he watched with absolute confusion.


	9. The Reason Why

**Chapter Eight: The Reason Why**

**A/N: Well, after last chapter I think you deserve an explanation. A big thanks to: earth17, Elizabeth Zara, Luli Cullen, EcoSeeker247, princess emma of narnia, shippolove844, Team Weasley Forever, Gangster1995, kyra3015, Rayven49, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, wolves-rain-chick, FelipeMarcusThomas, CityGirl13, echelonhay07 and Remember September.**

* * *

Aerilyn curled her hands around the grimy prison bars, resting her head against them in defeat. She wanted to convince herself not to cry – but it was a little hard when tears were already tracking down her cheeks. The last time she had been imprisoned…well, she didn't want to think about it. What hurt the most was the contempt in Peter's eyes when he'd discovered the truth. Now he thought she had been planning to kill Safara as well.

The door to the dungeons screeched open and Aerilyn looked up. Peter crossed towards her cell, but there was no empathy in his eyes, nothing that indicated he cared at all. They were like hard blue crystals, oblivious to her pain. Only Peter was not alone – Safara accompanied him, her hands clenched into fists and her eyes full of anger…only it wasn't directed at Aerilyn. To the young woman's astonishment, Safara's rage seemed focused completely on the High King.

"I told you not to follow me, Safara." Peter sounded impatient as he turned to glower at the girl, who folded her arms and maintained a resolute façade. "I think you should leave."

"I'm not going anywhere until I've had my say," Safara snapped at him, her eyes burning, "Peter, you've got the complete wrong idea…"

Peter had thought he could trust Aerilyn. He'd been foolish enough to almost fall for her…almost. He'd been on the brink and he probably would have, had he not discovered that Aerilyn was a murderer. What served to frustrate the High King was the fact that the young woman was acting so devastated, as though it had not been her decision to make. He turned his back on Safara, because he knew that the girl was good friends with Aerilyn and wanted to defend her. Did Safara know just how close she'd come to becoming the Archenland woman's next victim?

"Why did you kill Reynald?" Peter demanded of Aerilyn as she stepped back from the bars and wiped the tears from her face with grimy hands. "I don't understand you. You come to Cair Paravel and commit murder…yet you deliberately try and isolate yourself, and you seem genuinely upset by what you've done. Help me _understand,_ Aerilyn. Because so far, I don't know what's going on."

Safara stepped forward and grabbed Peter roughly by the shoulder, pulling him around to face her.

"I know what's happening, Peter! If you just listened to me, then I would explain it to you. Aerilyn is not a murderer. She isn't what you think she is. Dammit, I have to tell the truth. I'm sorry, Aerilyn. I know I promised I wouldn't…but it's the only way."

Aerilyn watched Safara with disbelief in her eyes. She had trusted the Narnian Princess…yet now Safara would tell her story to Peter. Peter didn't deserve to know the truth. He deserved an explanation for her actions, yes…but he didn't need to see why she was so messed-up. The reason Aerilyn didn't want him to know was because she didn't want to see the horror and worse, the _pity_ in his eyes.

"Please…Safara, please don't." Aerilyn was practically begging now, her voice hoarse from disuse. The girl swallowed hard and she looked like she herself might cry, but instead she shook her head slowly.

"Aerilyn, I have to make him understand." She turned to face Peter, her expression one of fierce defiance. "When Aerilyn was seventeen, Outlanders raided her home. Her father had come into possession of the White Witch's scepter and they came to take it back. Aerilyn's older sister and father were killed, so she made her younger sister escape with the scepter…only Aerilyn was captured by the Outlanders."

"Don't say any more!" Aerilyn cried, clinging to the bars and shaking her head fervently, "Safara, stop! He doesn't need to know."

Safara looked like she might cry, yet she didn't. Instead, her angry eyes were focused directly on Peter, who for once, had nothing to say. He could only listen in growing dread to the tale she told.

"Ran tortured her, Peter. He cut down her arms and legs, and a mark into her face for every day she remained his prisoner and then…" Safara took a shuddering breath and for a moment Aerilyn thought she might be too emotional to continue.

"Don't get upset," Aerilyn begged, "You'll damage your baby!"

"He raped her," Safara spat the words like they tasted sour in her mouth, "Ran raped Aerilyn, Peter. Do you understand now? Do you know what she's been through?"

Aerilyn just couldn't look Peter in the eye. She was fully aware of the shock in his expression as he turned to face her, but she just stared at her feet. She knew that the pity came next, and that was what she couldn't take. There was a tense silence for a few moments before Aerilyn's mouth opened and the story came tumbling from her like a waterfall. For once, she didn't think she could keep on hiding the truth.

"I don't seek your pity," she told Peter harshly, glowering into his horrified blue eyes, "You can view me with disgust if you wish for what happened, I care not. But do you want to know the real reason that I killed Reynald?"

She reminded him a little of a wild animal, the way that she clutched the bars with such fervour, and how her blue-green eyes sparkled with some a little like menace and a lot like fear. Safara took a few steps backwards, so that her face was half-shadowed.

"They have my sister," Aerilyn muttered, her voice nearly inaudible, "My baby sister. I thought she was dead, but then…Ran found me. I don't know how and I was afraid. He sent an Outlander to me with a letter, outlining what he wanted done and telling me he would kill Delilah if I didn't do it. She can't be any older than sixteen now. I wasn't going to leave her to die a second time."

Peter could quite clearly imagine Aerilyn's pain. It was the same sort of agony he had felt when Edmund had been endangered by the Outlanders in the past, the same pain he would feel if any of his siblings were held prisoner. He knew that if he was forced to, he would have made the same decision Aerilyn had – anything to save a brother or sister. He couldn't reprimand her for her choice.

"What did he want you to do?" Safara whispered through terrified lips. "Aerilyn, why did he want Lord Reynald dead?"

Aerilyn bowed her head, so that what little light shone into the cell was reflected off her coppery hair. Peter found himself feeling sorry for her. He felt guilty for jumping to conclusions. All this time, Aerilyn had been trying to protect her imprisoned sister. After what she had suffered at Ran's hands, Peter didn't blame her at all…yet Reynald's death could not go unpunished, or unexplained.

"Lord Reynald was only the beginning," Aerilyn's tone was dry, almost darkly amused, "Ran is plotting to spark war between Narnia and Archenland. I gather you already know Reynald was formerly an ambassador from Archenland? By now, news of his death will have reached Lune's court…and Ran's spies will have fed them lies, claimed that the Narnians did this and are turning their gaze towards Archenland. Afterwards, I was supposed to kill a Narnian and feign Archenland's involvement, so that war would be certain."

"Safara," Peter whispered, turning to glance over his shoulder at his brother's wife.

Aerilyn shook her head slowly. "No. Never Safara. The only reason I had her necklace was because…I was going to send it to the Outlanders. After Reynald's death I…panicked. I thought I would be caught out. Ran wanted assured of my continued involvement, so I stole the necklace in an attempt to convince him that I was getting close to the Kings and Queens…to you."

Peter's eyes narrowed slightly. Much as he wanted to believe Aerilyn, he had fallen into her trap in the past. Now, he was suspicious.

"How can we trust you?" he demanded of Aerilyn, "How do we know that you aren't lying to us?"

A bitter smile tweaked the corners of Aerilyn's lips. "You can't know. You'll just have to make the decision whether you think you _can _trust me, High King Peter the Magnificent."

* * *

Mike had murder in his heart as he stormed down the corridors of Cair Paravel, searching for one person in particular. One Aerilyn had been arrested and taken down to the dungeons on the charge of murdering Lord Reynald, the High King had explained the whole truth – and Mike had dropped his suspicions of Falcon, only to find a new target for his wrath. It was ironic, really. He had been right all along.

There he was, the snivelling bastard. Sitting at the table eating lunch with Violet, Safara and Edmund. Lord Tarin, the nobleman who was as low as a snake's belly and twice as slimy. Mike lost all semblance of reason as he stalked across the room, his teeth bared in savage fury. This young man had corrupted Violet and it was up to Mike to show him that it wasn't acceptable. The girl was _fifteen_, by Aslan's mane.

"Mike," Safara called, a little too cheerily to be genuine, "Come sit down."

Violet's eyes widened as she realized what was about to happen. She jumped out of her chair – just as Mike reached Tarin and threw him physically from his. The young nobleman sprawled on the ground and Mike laughed derisively at him.

"You piece of filth," Mike spat at him, kicking him roughly in the side, "How could you even think of _touching _her? You're no better than scum!"

Then everything was a flurry of fists as Mike launched himself at Tarin, and the two men brawled on the ground, throwing punches. Violet was shouting at them to stop, standing completely tense with her hands balled into fists like she might hit either one of them. Edmund was on his feet and hurrying across the room to break them. Safara stood with a hand clapped over her mouth and a shocked expression on her face as her hand tentatively reached towards her stomach.

"Safara!" Violet exclaimed in alarm, running to her and taking her hands, "What's the matter? Is it the baby?"

Safara shrugged and then nodded. "Yeah. It's nothing drastic, Vi. He just started kicking."

A delighted smile spread across Violet's face, before she remembered the fight and whirled around to where Mike was staggering to his feet. Tarin was pale-faced and had a blood nose. He seemed to have fared the worst out of the pair of them. Edmund's mouth was twisted in contempt.

"Brawling in the dining room!" he snarled at the pair of them, "In front of the girls, with the condition Safara's in and everything! Both of you should know better, especially you, Mike."

Violet stepped in to back up the Just King. "What were you thinking, Mike? Are you completely mad?"

Mike whirled around to face her, seething.

"You should know better, Violet," he shouted at her, "You're fifteen years old! What did you think you were doing? Now do you know what you look like? You just sleep around the place like a slut. Maybe that's why you're defending Edmund. You reckon now Safara's knocked up he might do it with you?"

Violet flinched as though he'd slapped her. Edmund's eyes were full of fury as he shoved Mike violently from him.

"Get out," he spat, folding his arms across his chest. "Don't bother coming back until you can keep a civil tongue."

The doors slammed shut and they all whirled around. Violet had already left, the distinct feeling of hurt and anger behind her.

* * *

"I only wish I knew how to make it up to you," Aerilyn murmured as she and Peter sat outside in the gardens. Peter had smiled at the sheer relief that had crossed her face once she had been released from the dungeons. Of course she was still kept under heavy guard, and could only leave in the dead of night when no one else in Cair Paravel could see and cause an uproar about it. Peter had some explaining to do, and he knew that. Hopefully the Narnians could show faith in Aerilyn as he had.

"Just don't prove me wrong," Peter warned her as he took another gulp of his wine. "I don't like being let down. With Hope having left Cair Paravel…well, all I can see is that I really hope I was right in trusting you, Aerilyn."

Aerilyn offered him a faint smile. "I hope so, too. Only…what would you do if that trust proved false?"

He offered her a sharp glance, before he turned away, spinning his now empty goblet in his hands. Peter didn't even look at her as he offered his answer in a low voice.

"I'd have no choice in the matter. I'd have to kill you."

There was a tense silence for a few moments. Peter felt that he could trust in Aerilyn now, now that she had divulged everything – her past, the reason why she'd killed Lord Reynald. He could only hope that Aerilyn was right. Hope's misgivings about her had most likely been due to jealousy and now that she had left Cair Paravel in a huff, Peter really needed someone he could count on.

"I make any promises," Aerilyn sighed, "I wish I could. But Ran didn't tell me everything. He just told me what to do and said he had Delilah prisoner. That's all I know, I swear. I just…" Her voice choked up and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "I hate the fact that people see me as a monster. Not only now because of what I look like, but what I've done. I don't want to be like the Outlanders. Especially not…_him._"

Peter hesitated, before he draped an arm around Aerilyn's shoulders. Unlike last time, she didn't push him away.

"Aerilyn, you can't blame yourself for everything. What he did to you was horrific and it…it makes my blood burn just thinking about it. I swear to you, on your sister's life, I will kill him for what he did."

Aerilyn laughed mirthlessly and something ruthless shone in her eyes as she reached up to wipe away tears.

"Oh, no, Peter. Killing him will be my vicious pleasure. After what he's done to me and my family, I think I've just about earned the right to give that man his death."

Peter couldn't disagree with that. Aerilyn was the one who should kill Ran, and although Peter guessed that the Outlander's death would be rather slow and painful if she carried it out, he supposed it was her decision to make in the end. Only she could tread the line between monstrosity and humanity and decide which side she would end up on.

Aerilyn turned to look at him, the look in her eyes both sharp and yet fragile at the same time. Despite her cold exterior, Peter now knew how damaged Aerilyn was inside. He knew she wouldn't like to admit it, but she needed help. _His _help. Before he knew what he was doing, he had leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

Aerilyn melted in to Peter's kiss, reaching up almost tentatively and placing her hand on his cheek. She didn't want to admit it, not even to herself, but this was the sort of thing she had been hoping for the whole time. Despite being the age of twenty-two years, Aerilyn had only kissed one other person before, and that hadn't even really counted…

Then it flooded back to her. Ran pressing his lips forcefully to hers in a warped imitation of a kiss as she struggled against him…

Gasping in shock, Aerilyn pulled away from Peter, staggering backwards. No, no, _no._ Ran had ruined her past and now the memories of what he'd done threatened to ruin her present. He spoiled _everything._ She hated him, she hated him! Why could she never have a happy moment without remembering what the Outlanders had done to her, her family?

"I can't," she sobbed, pressing her face into her hands, "I just can't do it, Peter."

He gripped her by the shoulders, trying to understand her. Aerilyn was a mystery to Peter, a puzzle that he hadn't yet solved. He only wanted to help her, yet it was hard when she continued to push him away.

"What's the matter? I'm sorry if I was too hasty…"

Aerilyn shook her head vigorously and pushed him away from her.

"It's not that at all, Peter. It's just, when you kiss me…I don't know why…it reminds me of _him._"


	10. Wilting Flowers

**Chapter Nine: Wilting Flowers**

**A/N: Whew! I've done three exams this week and I have another two next week, but I thought I'd take a little break from studying and give you lot something for being such epic readers! Huge thanks to: EcoSeeker247, shippolove844, princess emma of narnia, magyka95, Team Weasley Forever, Anonymous, FelipeMarcusThomas, Elizabeth Zara, kyra3015, Rayven49, Luli Cullen, CityGirl13, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, echelonhay07 and earth17!**

* * *

Mike was beginning to grow concerned. Of course, he knew his behaviour had been out of line and in fact he wanted to apologize to her for being so rude. No wonder half the people in Cair Paravel hated him, the way he was behaving! He had offended Safara, questioned Edmund's honour and flat-out insulted Violet. He'd crossed the line and he knew it.

"Violet?" He knocked on the door, and was only a little surprised when he didn't receive a response. Of course, he understood that Violet was still angry at him, but he wanted to talk to her. She was one of his closest friends and he didn't want to lose that friendship. Violet had been right – it was her decision to make and it hadn't really been any of Mike's business whether she was with Tarin or not.

He sighed heavily. "Please, Violet. Stop sulking and come out here. I want to talk to you – no, I _need _to talk to you."

After a few moments of silence, Mike started to grow annoyed. He gripped the door handle and twisted with all his might, but the little brat had locked him out. Thumping his shoulder against the door, Mike pushed with all his might. The door burst open and Mike stumbled into the room, prepared to confront an irate Violet – but not the empty silence he was met with.

"Violet?" he queried, tentative now. Her quarters were as tidy as ever, but there was no sign of Violet herself. Frowning, Mike turned on his heel and marched from the room. If she wanted to treat this as a game of hide and seek, so be it. He was prepared to apologize like mature adult, so why was she still behaving like a child?

* * *

By nightfall, Mike's frustration with Violet had stemmed into genuine concern. It wasn't like Violet to hold a grudge for this long and what was more, no one had seen her all day. Worried, he walked into the banquet hall for dinner and sat down in silence, contemplating. Was it possible that the fighting had driven Violet to the point of no return, so that she had run away from Cair Paravel? Could she possibly have allied herself with the Outsiders?

Mike dismissed the thought. No, that was stupid. She might only be fifteen, but even she knew better than to make such a rash decision. No matter how angry Violet might be, she would never betray them. Falcon glanced across at Mike, his smile fading as he noticed his friend's sombre silence.

"You alright, mate?" he asked.

Mike just shrugged. "I can't find Violet. No one has seen her all day."

Falcon's eyes, which had been full of amusement due to a joke Edmund had just told him, quickly grew serious. He glanced around the table and noted that Violet was indeed not present. He frowned in thought.

"That's not like her. She's not ill?"

Mike shook his head. "I went to her room earlier to speak with her. She wasn't there."

Falcon's eyes became haunted and Mike immediately knew how stupid he'd been. Out of all the people in Cair Paravel to tell of Violet's mystery absence, Falcon should have been the last one. Mike knew that he was thinking back to when Milla had suddenly vanished from Cair Paravel and he quickly leaned across.

"It's probably not the same thing that happened to Milla. There's no need to worry…"

"No need to worry?" Falcon laughed mirthlessly and his voice rose as he jabbed a finger towards Aerilyn at Peter's side. "I knew we were wrong to trust her. _She_ has done this. I know it."

Falcon rose to his feet, his teeth bared and his chair scraping back with a screech of protest.

"Where is she?" he demanded of Aerilyn, thumping his fists down on the table, "We all know you killed Reynald. So what have you done with Violet, huh? Did you kill her, too?"

"Falcon, calm down," Mike blurted rather hypocritically. It had been him who'd been so worked up earlier on and he understood where Falcon's rage stemmed from. He didn't wish to see anyone in Cair Paravel meet the same horrible fate as Milla. His suspicions lay with Aerilyn as well, but he didn't want to say that.

The copper-haired young woman just blinked in surprise. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Liar!" roared Falcon. Edmund swore and jumped to his feet. Both he and Mike quickly restrained Falcon when things threatened to get violent. "I see right through you, you little bitch. You're just the same as Telani! Trying to worm your way into the royal family, trying to get the Pevensies to trust you…you disgust me!"

Aerilyn was staring at Falcon in abject shock as Edmund and Mike marched him, with quite some struggle, from the banquet hall. Peter's eyes were hard as he glanced at the others who sat at the table in stunned silence.

"What was that all about?" he demanded, "Would anyone care to explain? What's this about Violet being missing?"

His eyes rested on Aerilyn and narrowed. Standing to his feet, the High King grabbed the young woman's arm and pulled her to her feet.

"Come with me please, Aerilyn. I think we need to talk."

* * *

Peter closed the doors to the banquet hall and rounded on Aerilyn, his eyes like two chips of cold, unforgiving ice. She held up her hands and immediately shook her head, taking a step back so as not to suffer his wrath.

"Peter, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with this…"

"Then who did?" Peter demanded, his hands clenching into fists, "Because I refuse to believe that Violet's disappearance is just the stubborn anger of a teenager. There's something more to this. I don't think you've told me everything, have you?"

Aerilyn's eyes narrowed and suddenly she was annoyed. She had told Peter everything, risked her life and her sister's by doing so. Now he thought she was keeping things from him? What would it take to convince him?

"I swear on Delilah's life that I have no idea what has befallen Violet."

Peter appeared mollified, but only slightly. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and he lifted one arm to rake back his dark blond hair. Thinking Aerilyn was responsible was the easy way out – and now he had to go about things the hard way.

"Unless…"

The single word made Peter whirl around to face Aerilyn, who was gnawing at her lip and seemed deep in thought. Her blue-green eyes were troubled.

"Ran must suspect me. He's sent someone else to finish what I have begun. If this is the case…then I think you can say goodbye to any chance of finding Violet alive again. They will have a spy in Cair Paravel who will claim that Archenland in responsible for Violet's disappearance, in order to have you declare war."

Peter couldn't believe what he was hearing. No, defeat wasn't happening. He would not just accept that Violet had been taken, if that was really what had happened. Everything remained uncertain. If Peter had thought Reynald's death was the end of things, he was sadly mistaken. It was only just the beginning and now Peter knew it was time to strike the Outlanders, hit them hard and kept hitting them until they were down.

_Hit them before they hit us._

* * *

Aerilyn had been right. The following morning, a young woman wished to speak with Peter, claiming that she had important news for the High King. Peter watched warily as the woman, Layla, approached. She was perhaps in her mid-twenties and pretty in an ordinary sort of way. She curtsied deeply before the High King and Peter drummed his fingers on the sides of his throne.

How he itched to just throw this woman into the dungeons and be done with it! Yet he knew he couldn't do that. Peter could not let the Outlanders suspect that he knew what they were do, for then they would know Aerilyn had told him…and they would kill her younger sister. Peter did not want an innocent girl's blood on his hands.

"Your Majesty." Layla raised herself from the ground. "I bear ill news. Just the other night, I witnessed the abduction of Lady Violet by a group of Archenland soldiers. The poor girl fought with all her might – but there was nothing she could have done. I would have interfered, had I not been terrified that they would take my life."

Peter wanted to laugh in her face, to prove that he was not as naïve as the Outlanders thought he was. He wanted to tell her that he would summon the might of the Narnian army and crush them, all of them…yet this wasn't about what he wanted to do. He had become mature since Lord Reynald's death. He was no longer the arrogant, promiscuous young man he'd once been. Instead of what he wanted, he would do what was prudent…and that was feigning innocence.

"The Archenlanders are supposed to be our allies," Peter replied, frowning. "Why would they have taken Violet?"

"Revenge, your Majesty." Layla's gaze was steady. "They are outraged at the death of Lord Reynald, one of their own. I tell you this because – and this is only my belief, your Majesty – we need to strike them for thinking themselves able to get away with such treachery. It is widely believed that the Archenlanders mistook Violet for the Princess Safara – they around the same height and both have dark hair."

More like the Outlanders thought they had finally captured the girl with the heart of fire, Peter ruminated to himself. He restrained a smile that would have given him away and inclined his head to Layla.

"I will speak to my brother and sisters and we will decide what course of action to take."

Layla was all smiles when she curtsied once more, but Peter could see the sinister light in her eyes and he knew what she was thinking. _You stupid, stupid boy. We have you completely under our thumb. You've fallen right into our trap. _Oh, how wrong the Outlanders were.

* * *

"We have to go after Violet," Aerilyn insisted, pacing around like a caged animal, "It's our only option!"

Peter had organized a meeting that evening in order to decide what should be done about Violet's apparent abduction. It seemed too eerily similar to what had happened with Milla and Peter wondered if they were falling into a trap by going after her. Who knew how many plans the Outlanders had? Ran may be a violent, unsubtle man – but he had others advising him, others like Gareth who were clever.

"We did that with Milla," Mike replied, shaking his head in a fervent 'no'. "Look, I think of Violet as my little sister…but we need leverage. I say we take this Layla hostage and barter, offer to exchange her for Violet."

"That's not going to work," Aerilyn retorted, glowering across at Mike, "I've told you, the Outlanders care nothing for each other in reality. If you threaten to kill Layla, Ran would only laugh and offer you a sword. He wouldn't care."

Peter knew they had to be cautious. Last time, he hadn't known why the Outlanders had kidnapped Milla – but this time he had the advantage, because he had Aerilyn. The Outlanders had abducted Violet and feigned Archenland's involvement, attempting to plunge both countries into war. The only problem was, the Outlanders could kill Violet at any time if they thought that Peter was hesitating, kill her and claim it was Archenland's doing.

"If we don't save her…" Aerilyn's voice was low and dangerous and she looked at Peter as she spoke, "You don't know what the Outlanders are capable of. Ran would do to her what he did to me, out of spite. If he thinks for a moment that Narnia is hesitating, he would torture her without a second thought. We need to get them out – Violet and my sister both."

Peter had an idea. It was risky, but it just might work. He cleared his throat and Aerilyn stopped talking. Everyone was looking to him. It had always been that way. He was always the one to make decisions – and he hoped that this time, he would make the right one.

"I say we organize a search party," Peter declared, "We'll claim that the chosen people are going to Archenland in an attempt to negotiate with King Lune. Let the Outlanders gloat, because they know Lune will deny everything. They won't try and stop it. But in reality, we'll be searching for them…and Violet and Delilah."

Edmund, who had been standing over by the fireplace, turned and looked towards his brother, nodding his support.

"It's a good idea. But who do you want to go?"

"Me." The word was out of Peter's mouth immediately and everyone looked to him in astonishment, but he ignored their stares. "Me, you, Aerilyn and Mike. A small group, so that the Outlanders won't know we suspect anything. After all, if we headed with an army in tow, they would probably start to get edgy. We don't want them to know that we know it's them."

"What about me?" Safara demanded from beside Edmund, folding her arms across her chest and scowling.

Edmund laughed, but beneath his lightheartedness, his words were serious. "I think you're forgetting that you're three months pregnant, darling. I'd lock you in the dungeons if it would stop you from going."

Safara gritted her teeth. She wasn't really stupid enough to think she could accompany them while pregnant, but it did irritate her that everyone else was going to get some action while she was trapped in Cair Paravel like she was made of porcelain.

"I'll stay then," Edmund relented, sighing and draping an arm around Safara's shoulders, "I'll stay and keep you company. Peter, you might want to find someone who can come in my stead."

Peter thought about it for a moment, thought of a young man with a cold hatred towards the Outlanders and a rage that would be terrible to behold. He would kill them all if he could and Peter didn't know if he was being stupid or smart when he nodded and said: "Falcon."


	11. Dark Times

**Chapter Ten: Dark Times**

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! Over 100 already! I feel so privileged. You guys seriously make my day. Huge thanks to: CityGirl13, earth17, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, shippolove844, Luli Cullen, princess emma of narnia, Team Weasley Forever, Ella1673, FelipeMarcusThomas, Rayven49, kyra3015, Elizabeth Zara, Daddyscowgirl94 and echelonhay07**

* * *

Violet sat with her knees hugged to her chest and her head bowed. She was struggling to be brave and hold back the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to take her over. This must have been what it was like for Milla. She took a deep breath and forced herself to think of the good things, of the things that were worth being brave for. Her friends in Cair Paravel. All she had to do was think about them and she felt a little better already.

The tent flap opened and Ran strode in, inspecting his prisoner with a triumphant glimmer in his eyes. Violet met his gaze with a brazen one of her own. She was going to prove that she was not a little girl anymore.

"They're going to find you," she warned him, "The Narnians won't rest until they've hunted you down and killed you."

Instead of looking frightened or annoyed, Ran just scoffed. He stood over Violet and folded his arms across his chest, trying to look intimidating. The problem was, it was working. Violet averted her eyes and glared at the ground.

"Oh, I doubt it, young Violet. You see, right now, your friends will be blaming the Archenlanders for everything – your abduction, Lord Reynald's murder, all of it. They'll never suspect a thing."

Violet allowed herself a small smile. "That's what Jadis said as well."

Ran's confident expression dropped and he glowered down at the girl. He aimed a bad-tempered kick in her direction, but she saw it coming and quickly rolled out of the way. He remembered Violet from when she and Mike had been part of the Outlanders two years previously. She had always been an obnoxious brat, always thinking that she knew best.

"I'm not afraid of you," Violet shot at him.

Ran raised his eyebrows and then lifted his foot as if to kick at her again. Violet flung her arms around her head to protect herself and Ran lowered his foot with a laugh.

"Liar."

Violet slowly took her arms away from her head.

"Are you going to kill me?" Her tone was calm and rational as she spoke, but he could see the fear flickering deep within her dark eyes.

"Oh, no. I need you very much alive." Ran turned and started walking out of the tent where Violet was held prisoner, but then he paused and looked over his shoulder, offering her a ruthless smile. "At least, for now."

Those last words shocked Violet and her eyes widened as the flap swung shut after Ran's departure. Left alone and feeling more miserable than ever before, Violet pressed her face into her hands and allowed herself to cry, her shoulders shaking with every sob. She didn't want to die and she dreaded finding out why the Outlanders needed her. She didn't want her friends to be hurt.

_Please forgive me._

* * *

Aerilyn shrugged her coat more tightly around her, wishing bitterly that they could set up a campfire. Peter had claimed it would attract unwanted attention and Mike had agreed with him. Falcon had remained quiet most of the time, but the hard gleam his eyes had taken on had not yet vanished. Aerilyn glanced across at him, his mouth pressed into a firm line.

"He's unhappy because of what happened with Milla," Peter muttered as Falcon settled down to go to sleep. Aerilyn and Peter had decided on taking first watch – Aerilyn because she couldn't sleep, and Peter because he didn't want to wake up with a knife in his back and realize he'd been wrong to trust her.

"What did happen with Milla?" Aerilyn asked quietly as Mike yawned loudly and rested his head on his arms as he lay down. "It would seem that everyone knows but me."

Peter explained in a low voice the events that had befallen Milla two years ago and when Aerilyn looked back at the now-sleeping Falcon and realized why he was so worked up about what had befallen Violet. He was scared that what happened to Milla would happen to her. Aerilyn pitied him, because she knew what it was like to have your life violently torn apart when someone you loved died. It hurt, Aslan's mane, it hurt.

Someone she loved. Why did she think of Peter when she thought of someone she loved? Aerilyn shook off the feeling. She couldn't allow herself to do that. At first it was because she had been afraid that he would hurt, but now there was the added knowledge that he had kissed Hope. Perhaps he still loved her.

Aerilyn darted a quick glance Peter's way. The High King was notorious for his way with women, yet at the same time Aerilyn knew him to be noble and courageous. If Hope was the one he truly wanted, then Aerilyn wished them luck…only for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to accept that. She wanted to let go, to relinquish her conflicted feelings…only it wasn't that easy.

"Do you love her?" Aerilyn blurted out, surprising even herself. Peter threw her a quizzical glance. "Hope, I mean. Are you in love with her?"

Peter sighed almost wistfully and stared into the distance. Aerilyn's stomach lurched and she found that it was answer enough to her question. She wished she had never asked and she let her copper hair fall into her face to hide the flush of shame on her cheeks.

"Not anymore."

Aerilyn stared across at Peter and he offered her a strained smile.

"I don't love Hope anymore. The problem is, I think she loves me. That just makes everything more complicated."

Aerilyn bitterly wondered at the irony of it all. Hope would make the perfect bride for Peter – she was wise, beautiful…everything the people of Narnia could ever want in a monarch's wife. The only thing was, there was no connection between her and Peter…at least, not anymore. Aerilyn heaved a sigh of frustration and Peter looked at her with an impassive expression.

"Do you think we'll find them alive? Violet and Delilah, I mean?"

Peter and Aerilyn both glanced across to where Mike was leaning on his elbow and staring across at them. Aerilyn bit her lip and wondered exactly how much of their conversation he'd heard. Yet here was another young man concerned for Violet's safety – a young man who felt very strongly about her, who saw her as a little sister and wanted to protect her.

Peter's expression became a solemn mask. "I'm not sure. I really hope so. We need to have faith."

Aerilyn couldn't help but scoff at his words. Hope? She had long since given up on having faith, on praying that everything would be alright. If Aslan was so benevolent, where had he been all those years ago when she had been at Ran's mercy? Where had he been when she had been tortured and brutally raped? Aerilyn no longer believed in hoping. She believed that your future was what you made of it.

"Faith," Aerilyn's tone was contemptuous, "Hope. They are for dreamers. They are for the optimistic."

Mike's face hardened. "Well, it's better than thinking that they're dead!"

A cold smile curved Aerilyn's lips. "Where did faith get you when Milla was taken? Did hope save her, Mike?"

Mike was rising from underneath the coats he'd piled upon himself, teeth glinting in the moonlight as his whole frame tensed.

"How dare you!" he spat at her, "You didn't even _know _her…"

Aerilyn's eyes flashed danger. "You were one of _them. _When she tried to escape, you were the one who dragged her back, weren't you? She might have lived if it wasn't for you."

Peter's head whipped around so fast that he nearly snapped his neck. He certainly hadn't told Aerilyn that part about Milla. Where had she found that information out from? A chill ran down his spine as Mike's jaw clenched and he backed off, staring at his feet in livid rage. Aerilyn had exposed Mike's weakness – his guilt over being a participant in Milla's murder.

"Just stop," Peter commanded, a steely note entering his voice. "This bickering is pointless. It's not going to get us anywhere. Mike, lie down and go to sleep. Aerilyn, just leave him alone. He doesn't need this from you."

* * *

Things in Cair Paravel were not going well, despite Susan's best efforts to keep things under control. Layla, the Outlander spy, was spreading vicious rumours about Peter – she claimed that he had abandoned the Narnians in their hour of need and didn't even trust them enough to tell them where he was going. This had meant mutinous feelings rising amongst the Narnians, whispers and rumours spreading. Susan really didn't need to deal with this.

"Why don't you try talking to her?" Edmund asked of Safara, indicating the slight bump that showed her pregnancy. "I'm sure that she'd appreciate hearing her mother's voice."

They were sitting around the dining table and to Susan, the place felt horribly empty. More than half of the table's usual occupants were absent, leaving her with a troubled feeling deep down inside. The others were either genuinely light-hearted, or just attempting to keep up good spirits in the loneliness that now lingered all around them.

Safara rolled her eyes. "I don't want to look like a nut, walking around and talking to myself. Besides, I'm sure it's a boy. I've already thought of a name for him: Brigan. What do you think?"

Edmund shrugged, but there was a mischievous light in his eyes.

"It's a fine name. But considering _she _is a _girl_, I was thinking more along the lines of Emmelyn."

Lucy found it rather amusing, their constant arguments over whether the child was going to be a boy or a girl. She bit back a laugh.

"Alright. Well, I think we should put money on this. Edmund, you have to pay Safara ten crowns if he's a Brigan, and Safara has to pay you ten crowns if she's an Emmelyn. Does that sound fair?"

Before either of them could respond, Susan leaned across to speak to Edmund.

"Could I talk to you for just a moment?"

Edmund caught the seriousness in his older sister's tone and his smile dropped for only a moment, before he quickly hoisted it back up and excused himself, agreeing to the bet as he exited the throne room with Susan.

"What's the matter, Su?" Edmund asked of his older sister as they entered the corridor where Lucy and Safara would not overhear them. Although Lucy was normally the most perceptive, she was too caught up in the joy of becoming an aunt right at the moment. When Susan gnawed at her lip, Edmund took her by the shoulders. "Well, spit it out."

"It's that…_Outlander_," Susan lowered her voice, whispering the name, but the disdain in her tone was perfectly clear, "She's stirring up trouble and I'm starting to worry. Aslan isn't around and Peter isn't here. I don't want her making the Narnians think badly of our brother, but that's exactly what's happening."

Edmund shook his head in disgust. The expression upon his face was a furious one and Susan knew he hated the fact that Layla was slandering Peter's good name even more than she did.

"I knew we should have arrested her when she first arrived. Don't fret, Susan. I'll call upon the guard, and…"

"No!" Susan grabbed Edmund's arm and pulled him back around to face her. Her blue eyes glittered with urgency. "You know why we can't do that, Edmund. The Outlanders will suspect that we know something's amiss…"

"I'm tired of playing by their rules!" Edmund burst out, and then lowered his voice at an icy glare from Susan. "I'm sick of these mind games. Who to tell, what to do. I don't think I can take much more of this."

Susan knew her younger brother was impatient and she shook her head fervently. While Peter was away, Susan was in charge and they both knew it.

"Well, it's not going to be much longer. Once Peter and the others find Violet and Delilah…"

"What then?" Edmund questioned angrily, "What's actually going to happen?"

Susan was caught off-guard by the question, and also her brother's fury. He was clearly frustrated by the fact that they weren't able to do anything about Layla, yet doubt wormed its way into Susan's own mind.

"I…I don't know, Ed."

"I do," Edmund muttered, turning on his heel and marching back towards the banquet hall, "_Nothing_."


	12. Someone Wake Me Up

**Chapter Eleven: Someone Wake Me Up**

**A/N: Ahh, exams are finally over! This means (hopefully) more frequent updates. A huge thanks to: Ella1673, Team Weasley Forever, princess emma of narnia, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, wolves-rain-chick, shippolove844, Elizabeth Zara, Rayven49, Luli Cullen, earth17, FelipeMarcusThomas, echelonhay07, Darth Rapture and CityGirl13.**

* * *

It wasn't ideal, stopping in one of the outer towns of Archenland for the night, but Peter had devised a plan to ensure that they avoided suspicion. Mike and Falcon had already entered the town several hours beforehand, posing as two fishermen brothers. Aerilyn and Peter would go next, posing as a wealthy husband and wife.

"I'm not so sure," Aerilyn muttered, gnawing at her lip as she linked her arm through Peter's to keep up the pretence, "Why can't I just be your sister?"

They both knew well why. Aerilyn's flaming red hair and blue-green eyes were attention-grabbing enough, the scars on her face even more so. If anyone asked – which they really shouldn't out of tact and general etiquette – Peter would claim he had married Aerilyn for the huge dowry she came with. For some reason, he felt great sorrow that people would not believe him if he claimed to marry her out of love.

The town was perfect for hiding in. It was apparently a minor trading post and therefore people flocked in and out all the time, some of the business there not entirely legal. Peter and Aerilyn dodged a horse cart and headed for the inn they'd chosen to stay at, called the 'Mad Menace'. People were shouting their wares all around the place, but Peter maintained a haughty expression as if he was above them all.

"You know," Aerilyn leaned across to murmur in his ear, "You're very good at acting like a snob, Peter Pevensie."

He had to bite down on his tongue to avoid snickering. They entered the 'Mad Menace' with their heads tilted proudly upwards as if this little inn was far too good for them. Peter slammed down a few coins on the counter and glowered at the surprised innkeeper.

"Your best room for my lady and I, if you please."

Aerilyn suppressed a smirk at Peter's snotty tone and contented herself with tossing her hair back in a manner that suggested she thought this whole place beneath her. The innkeeper counted up the coins and showed them to a room three storeys up. It was indeed quite big for a dingy little inn and the first place Aerilyn headed was the tiny balcony.

She looked down over the hustle and bustle of the small town as Peter conversed with the innkeeper. It felt so strange to look down upon everyone. She had been nothing better than dirt until she'd come into Narnia and now…now she was someone else entirely. Aerilyn could almost forget what she'd suffered as a prisoner of the Outlanders…_almost._

"I'm not so sure about this, Peter." Aerilyn voiced her doubts once the innkeeper was clunking back downwards. Her eyes drifted to the double bed in the middle of the room and she felt her cheeks burning with implications. She was well aware that sharing a bed with Peter wouldn't mean anything, as he was a gentleman and would certainly keep his distance. Yet the knowledge of sharing led to insinuations, which led to darker thoughts…

"It's fine," Peter insisted, gesturing to a crotchety little couch situated in the corner of the room, "If it makes you feel better, I'll sleep on the couch."

Aerilyn stared at her feet. "Well, I wouldn't want to inconvenience you…"

Peter didn't really mind so much. If it made Aerilyn uncomfortable to share a bed with him, he was fine with sleeping elsewhere. He knew the sort of implications that could come about and he would not wish to embarrass her in any manner.

"When and where are we meeting the others?" Aerilyn asked, dropping her voice in case anyone was trying to eavesdrop.

"Tomorrow morning, on the outskirts of town. They know where exactly."

Aerilyn knew there was little privacy in such a room, so she wasn't surprised when Peter took off his tunic to settle down for bed. She eyed his well-toned physique approvingly, then scolded herself for acting like a romantic teenage girl and crawled into bed, fully dressed.

* * *

Veronica weaved her way through the band of Outlanders until she reached Gareth. He had propped himself up against a flat rock and was reading something from a thick volume. Upon realizing that he wasn't alone, Gareth's eyes widened and he quickly slammed the book closed.

"What are you reading?" Veronica demanded, eyeing the book suspiciously. When Gareth opened his mouth to reply, she waved a hand carelessly. "Never mind. I just remembered I don't care. Now, where's Ran? I need to speak to him."

Gareth shrugged. "Last I heard, he was mocking the little girl. Now he's probably gone to pick on someone else. I don't know, I'm not his lapdog."

Gareth had been a staunch supporter of Telani and Jadis, but he had always viewed Ran with contempt. The man functioned on mainly violence and brute force, whereas Gareth had always been a man of intelligence and more secretive means.

Veronica sighed in frustration and stomped around until she finally found Ran exiting his tent. He turned to face her as she approached, eyebrows raised.

"Why so serious, Veronica?"

"It's Aerilyn," Veronica reported bluntly, "I saw her and Peter enter one of the outer towns in Archenland, posing as husband and wife."

Ran wondered about this. Aerilyn was a loose cannon, which is why he didn't like to use her…yet he knew that she was the only one who could get the job done. If he sent an Outlander, the Pevensies would know and have them executed. As it was, he was being hard pressed to keep Layla in disguise in Cair Paravel.

"Is she there on our orders, or theirs?"

Veronica threw up her hands. "I'm not sure. That's why I came to you."

Ran smiled smugly. Aerilyn wouldn't betray him. She knew there was too much at stake. She would keep the Narnians blind to the truth. The Narnians would think that Peter was in Archenland, and Peter would think that Aerilyn was helping him. Meanwhile, she would be leading the High King straight to the Outlanders…to his doom. Kill the High King and blame Archenland. Then, Ran would have his war.

"Don't worry, this is exactly what we planned," Ran assured a doubtful Veronica, "Now, why don't you see if you can get Gareth to do something useful for a change. Tell him to go to this town and intercept them. It would be too easy to just let the High King walk into our trap, wouldn't it? Make him create a diversion and speak with Aerilyn. We need to know her intentions."

* * *

"Snap out of it!" hissed Falcon, smacking Mike across the face. The blond man just released another deafening snore and rolled over, prompting Falcon to sigh in frustration. Mike was practically unconscious he was in such a deep sleep, and Falcon was pissed off.

Mike had said 'only a few drinks'. About seven beers later, Falcon was practically forcing water down his throat to purge the alcohol from his system. When Mike had nearly fallen asleep on the counter, Falcon had half-dragged, half-carried him upstairs and was now attempting to sleep without having to listen to Mike's snoring.

"Are you sure this is the place?" A woman's voice asked, sounding doubtful.

There was the neigh of a horse and Falcon edged towards the window, peering out into the night. A woman and a man stood beneath him, the man tethering his horse as the woman watched him with her hands on her hips.

"Yes, Veronica," the man sounded exasperated and there was something strangely familiar about his voice, something Falcon couldn't quite place, "I'm fine by myself, you know. Now you can run along back and report as you do so beautifully."

"Will you be quiet?" snapped Veronica, looking around and then up. Falcon ducked out of view and flattened himself against the wall. "You don't want people hearing you, do you?"

Falcon didn't know what sort of conversation he was listening to, but he had the feeling that these people were spies…perhaps Outlander spies. He scowled as he moved away from the window and shook Mike once more. The sooner they were out of this town the better.

"Oh, come _on_. Stop snoring like a pig and _wake up."_

"You make me sound so sinister," the man laughed, "I assure you, people can listen to our business all they want. It makes no difference to me."

Falcon was sure that they were up to something now. Did they know that he was listening? Had the woman Veronica perhaps seen him when she'd looked up? All Falcon knew was that the first thing he was going to do in the morning was wake Mike up and get out.

* * *

Safara stared down at the rounded bump that was her stomach. Wow, pregnancy really did make her look fat. She sighed heavily and shrugged, helping herself to a third slice of turkey. Edmund watched her with raised eyebrows.

"I know you're feeding two people, but love, do you think you could slow it down?"

Pregnancy really did not suit Safara. She was so used to being up and about and able to do whatever she wanted, but now she was restricted. Soon enough, she was going to be waddling around the place like an overweight penguin. The only good thing was the baby had started kicking recently and it was a pretty big development, in her opinion.

"I need to eat," Safara mumbled through a mouthful of turkey.

Edmund just shook his head in disbelief. "I guess pregnant women really _do _get some serious cravings. Telani always said…"

He caught himself out, stopping with a look on his face that made him seem as though he might kill something. Safara's knife and fork clattered to the plate and she looked across at him with an irritated expression.

"I'm sorry, but last thing I knew, Telani was a crazed egomaniac who was after your throne, so excuse me if I'm not hanging off every word you say about her."

She set down her eating utensils and started to stand up. Edmund sighed heavily and reached out to her.

"Safara…"

"_No_, Edmund." She silenced him with a fiery glower. "Look, I'm tired and we're not having this conversation right now. I just want to go to bed. Maybe you should find out what Telani thinks of that, considering I didn't even know you mentioned her nowadays."

Edmund watched in despair as Safara headed out of the room and closed the door behind her, pitched into the welcoming darkness of the corridors. Safara moved slower nowadays than she liked – she was becoming more of an old woman with each month of the pregnancy, she often mused.

In reality, she knew she'd been too harsh on Edmund and she regretted it now. But it was just hearing Telani's name…it was like a slap to the face, a reminder that Safara hadn't been the first love of Edmund's life. It stung her, but she tried to keep that fact to herself. _She _was Edmund's wife, not Telani. _She _was the one carrying his child.

The wind seemed to change direction because suddenly, a chill ran down Safara's spine inexplicably. Her foot squelched in something wet and she stepped backwards with a frown…only to see the words scrawled on the wall: YOU WERE WARNED.

Safara started to breathe faster and faster, her heart accelerating until she thought it might drop from overuse. The words were painted on as if by someone's hand and there was no doubting that dark, horrible liquid was blood. It glinted ominously in the moonlight as Safara backed away slowly, now in no doubt that an enemy was still within the castle walls.

Safara turned as if to head back towards the banquet hall where she and Edmund had been dining, but then she saw something that made her eyes widen with absolute horror. Her shrill, piercing scream resonated throughout the corridors of Cair Paravel.


	13. This Is How It Feels

**Chapter Twelve: This Is How It Feels**

**A/N: I apologize for the slowness in updates. I got exams back…and the scores aren't anywhere near as good as I expected. But thank you all so much for reviewing! A huge thanks to: Daddyscowgirl94, Elizabeth Zara, princess emma of narnia, FelipeMarcusThomas, Rayven49, shippolove844, Pimpinellifolia, Luli Cullen, ILuvZeroandPockyyum, CityGirl13, Darth Rapture, Elessar, Gangster1995, earth17, wolves-rain-chick and Cookie-no-rpattz-monster.**

* * *

The sun was just peeking over the horizon, like a curious child, when Aerilyn and Peter snuck out of the inn. They linked arms and moved at a steady pace, a show for any onlookers and those ragged urchins setting up for the morning's markets. Aerilyn plastered a smile on her lips and tried to fight back the urge to scream. She just wanted to break free and run from the town as fast as she could, yet she and Peter both knew there would be consequences for that sort of behaviour. Yet there was no shaking the feeling that someone was watching her.

"How long until Mike and Falcon meet up with us?" Aerilyn murmured under her breath.

"Soon," Peter replied enigmatically, but even for him the others couldn't turn up soon enough. His blue eyes raked almost suspiciously through the streets, searching for danger – both to Aerilyn and himself.

"That's them there!"

The cry made Peter whirl around – too late. Aerilyn cried out in horror as a group of armour-clad Archenland soldiers dragged them forcefully apart. She struggled against them, straining as two of them held her back. The High King seemed to have more sense, acting calmly although his mind rebelled against this atrocity completely.

"What in the name of King Lune is going on here?" Peter thundered, adopting a commanding and authoritative tone that befitted a nobleman. He lifted his chin and glowered as a man garbed in wine-red nudged his way through the throng of soldiers that crowded Peter and Aerilyn. There was a smug smile on his face and Peter's stomach lurched. There was something oddly familiar about this man, something he couldn't quite place…

Aerilyn stopped fighting immediately when she saw Gareth step forward with a smirk about his round little face, a smirk she desperately wanted to wipe off. However she couldn't risk exposing that she knew about Gareth, for he was clearly playing along with her façade of being Peter's wife. If she pointed him out, the Outlanders would know she was betraying them.

"You are under arrest," Gareth proclaimed triumphantly, "By order of the King."

No doubt he meant King Lune – yet Aerilyn knew this was madness. Lune didn't even know they were in Archenland. Gareth must have paid these soldiers to arrest them on his terms. Her blue-green eyes were completely cold as she fixed them upon Gareth. Indeed, as the soldiers dragged Peter and Aerilyn through the streets, much to the shock of watching beggars, Aerilyn watched Gareth flip a bag of coins to the leader of the group.

"On what charges?" Peter demanded, straining to turn and face Gareth, "What are we being arrested _for_?"

"You will remain silent," Gareth told him disdainfully, "You will speak only when spoken to."

Peter bared his teeth in frustration as the soldiers kept marching him and Aerilyn along. When he tried to catch the woman's gaze, she was staring intently at her feet. A chill ran down his spine as he acknowledged that she knew something, something either about their arrest or the strangely familiar man who had authorized it…something she wasn't willing to share.

"Why will you not tell us?" Aerilyn asked icily of Gareth, glancing across at him and daring him to meet her gaze. He didn't. "If we are accused of something, at least we should be notified of what it is we have done."

"If you are innocent, you will be compensated," Gareth replied, avoiding the question altogether, "You will be notified of your crimes once you are in secure containment. For now, you would be wise to keep your mouth shut."

* * *

Mike and Falcon watched from the rooftops as Aerilyn and Peter were dragged away by the group of soldiers. As soon as the pandemonium had begun, they had exited their own inn for fear of being captured as well…yet it would seem the soldiers and the man in charge knew nothing of them, for no invasion had been carried out.

Falcon watched the man in wine-red who accompanied the soldiers. He was small and round-faced with a pompous air, as if he was superior to those around him. His eyes narrowed in consideration as he observed this man. Falcon recognized him from somewhere as he led Peter and Aerilyn away with a stupid little smile on his face.

Mike saw Falcon staring and nodded slowly, sighing heavily. "You would be right in thinking you know him. You do remember Gareth of the Outlanders, don't you? What he lacks in backbone he makes up for with intelligence. He's dangerous. When I was…when I was with the Outlanders, he was Telani's primary source of information. It's through him that she discovered the ritual to resurrect Jadis."

Gareth's appearance was misleading. Despite the fact that he looked like a librarian, Falcon knew that looks could be deceiving. From what Mike had just said, Falcon guessed that Gareth was one of the primary instigators in Violet's abduction and the chain of events that had been set off in Cair Paravel.

Falcon gritted his teeth as he watched Peter and Aerilyn being marched out of sight. He and Mike couldn't just abandon them. They had both made their mistakes in the past and now was the time to prove that they were worthy. They couldn't abandon the High King in his hour of need. For Falcon, this was the chance to prove that he wasn't just another person to be shunted aside. It was time for him to do the right thing for once.

"We have to break them out," Falcon muttered in a low voice, ducking down even further so that the sun's light wouldn't catch on his earrings and make them glimmer. "Not now, it's too risky…but later."

"You read my mind," Mike replied dryly, his eyes glinting, "I think the best plans are always carried out during the night, don't you?"

Falcon smiled at the thought of attacking Outlanders. Finally, it was payback time. Falcon could have his vengeance for Milla and then they would also be freeing Aerilyn and Peter. Gareth had devised the enchantment that had got Milla killed…so he was first. Then? The Outlanders would all die. Every last one of them.

* * *

The people were beginning to panic. As if it hadn't been bad enough that the High King had left with a few of Narnia's finest soldiers, Susan ruminated, then things had definitely taken a turn for the worse when Safara had discovered Hope dead in the corridors, with the words YOU WERE WARNED painted on the walls with her own blood.

Susan felt nauseous just remembering the scene. Safara had been backed up against the opposite wall, her hands clapped over her mouth. Edmund and Susan had come running at hearing her scream…and then Susan had seen Hope, her blonde hair strewn over her sightless eyes and blood all over her. It had been a miracle that Safara's stress hadn't made her miscarry.

Now, the two Queens, one King and one Princess sat in the library, having sealed it off and kept it under heavy guard. This was not a conversation for the ears of any Narnian who passed by. Lucy kept her hand on Safara's shoulder, a silent comfort due to what the older girl had witnessed.

"Hope's fingers were stained in her own blood," Susan offered, exhaling deeply and tossing back her dark hair, "That makes it obvious that she was the one who wrote the message on the wall. The only reason is…why would Hope do that?"

"Wait," Safara's green-brown eyes narrowed, "You think Hope did that to _herself_? You think she killed herself? But, Susan, that makes no sense."

"Exactly," Susan nodded grimly, her blue eyes solemn, "If someone else tried to kill Hope, they wouldn't have wanted to risk her being alive, especially when Safara came across her. They would have killed her straight out. Why risk her writing something on the walls in her own blood like that? It just doesn't make any sense to me. None of this does. First Lord Reynald, now Hope…"

Safara tugged her arm from Lucy's grasp. There was no denying that Hope had been the one to write on the corridor wall in her own blood…but there were still so many questions that needed to be answered. What was Hope trying to warn them about? How they shouldn't trust Aerilyn? That someone else was involved in Reynald's murder?

"I refuse to believe that Hope killed herself. I'm sorry Susan, but it just doesn't fit her character. I know she was upset because Peter left…but don't you think that's a little random? She just comes back to Cair Paravel to kill herself and finger-paint on the wall? No, I think there's something else going on here. Hope came back for a reason. I think she came to tell us something and I think someone tried to stop her from telling us."

Susan was not sure _what _to believe. What Safara said made sense, yet for some reason Susan didn't think that was what had happened. Perhaps Hope's death was deliberately meant to draw their attention. Maybe someone wanted them to focus solely on that while they operated subtly in the wings.

"Look, we can debate this all day," Lucy interrupted a little impatiently, "What we need to do now is do the same thing we did when Reynald was killed…we need to investigate and find the truth."

With Aerilyn away from Cair Paravel, it was a little disturbing to Susan to consider the notion of a new murderer. It seemed a little too eerie, an echo of what had happened with Reynald. Someone wanted this to happen all over again. Someone wanted to divert the Pevensies' attention from what was really going on, which was…what, exactly?

Somehow, the danger was closer to home than Susan was comfortable with. After Reynald's death, Aerilyn's confession and Violet's abduction…well, things were confusing enough as it was without another killer being added to the mix. The sooner they sorted this out, the better. Susan knew that Edmund was definitely going to be keeping a close eye on Layla, who would be a prime suspect for Hope's mysterious death.

* * *

Violet remained in sullen silence as Ran paced around with a smirk on his face. Smirks seemed to be like customary badges for the Outlanders. Perhaps Violet should adopt a smirk and then she'd be one of them. The thought was ever so slightly amusing, but fear of this psychotic man before her quickly erased anything amusing from her mind.

"Your friends don't need me to destroy them," Ran gloated, rubbing his hands together just like the movie villains always did, "They are capable of destroying themselves. You just wait and see, young Violet."

He reached his hand out and Violet wasn't sure if he was going to strike her or not. Panicking, she grabbed his hand and twisted with all her might, twisted until a series of pops and cracks, accompanied by Ran's yowl of pain, assured her that she had broken several fingers. The damage done, Violet released Ran and stepped quickly back.

Complete and utter rage suffused Ran's features as he stared down at his now broken fingers. He used his uninjured arm to smack Violet across the face, so hard that she staggered and sat down heavily. Ran was breathing heavily and dearly looked as though he would have loved to kill the dark-haired girl before him.

"You're more trouble than you're worth, you little brat," he snarled at her, restraining the urge to grab her by the throat and choke the life out of her…or cut parallel scars down her face, "You'll be sorry for this, that I can promise you."

With that spat-out oath of revenge, Ran nursed his hand as he moved swiftly from the tent, his face white with pain. Violet watched him and was left to wonder what she'd done and more horrifyingly, what the consequences might be.

There was a whisper in the darkest recesses of her mind, something urging her to do something before it was too late.

_If you want to get out alive, run for your life._


	14. Mouth Shut

**Chapter Thirteen: Mouth Shut**

**A/N: A huge thanks to my lovely reviewers: earth17, Darth Rapture, FelipeMarcusThomas, Elizabeth Zara, CityGirl13, Rayven49, shippolove844, Daddyscowgirl94, princess emma of narnia and ILuvZeroandPockyyum.**

**Okay, the first bit's a little dark, but it shouldn't be too bad. I found a song that really fits Aerilyn's mood: "Monster" by Meg and Dia. It's really sad, but it makes sense. Hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

_Aerilyn stared listlessly at the roof of the tent as blood trickled down her cheek in a crimson rivulet. Yet, the silent pain she suffered from her was far deeper than the physical – it haunted her and in the confines of her near-broken mind, she beat at the walls that caged her and screamed and screamed. Hot, wet tears of shame mingled with the blood. _

_How could she ever go back to the way she had been now? She had been fractured beyond repair. Now she was paranoid that silent creatures that watched her from the darkness, impassively observing her pain and humiliation. Aerilyn felt bile rise in her throat and she arched her back, but she had already retched up everything in her stomach._

_Her thighs were a mess of scarlet and violet, like it wasn't her own skin anymore. Ran had stolen her from herself and it just wasn't fair. She had become completely hollow, like she wasn't living inside herself anymore. Why should she keep this bruised and battered body? Aerilyn was frustrated at being trapped in her own skin, trapped in a body abused out of a mixture of hatred, anger and lust._

_Aerilyn's shift was torn at the neck by Ran's greedy hands. Her lip was mangled and bloody where she'd bitten it, unwilling to cry out. It was terrible enough that she had suffer this, but she didn't want the added shame of knowing everyone else could hear her in such agony. Aerilyn had just about gone insane from keeping all the pain locked up inside herself._

_Hatred filled every fibre of Aerilyn's being. Hatred at herself, but most of all hatred of Ran. He was the one who had destroyed her. He was the one who had turned her into a monster, a person consumed by vengeance and anger. That was when she swore an oath: no matter how long it took, she would kill Ran herself. She would watch his world burn as she danced around him with a cry of triumph, revelling in the fact that she could inflict suffering upon him as he had upon her._

* * *

Aerilyn couldn't breathe. The cold stone walls enclosed her, but they were nothing compared to the threatening memories, the demons in her mind. It was like she couldn't take in enough air, like she was drowning in the oxygen supposed to give her life. Her form was rigid and stiff as she choked on nothing.

What if Gareth had come because Ran had found out what she'd done? Delilah would die because of her and Aerilyn knew that sort of burden would drive her even further into insanity. She had condemned herself, the High King and her sister. She had scraped her nails down the walls in fervent desperation, resulting only in cracked nails and bloody nails. It hadn't done anything but earn a burning in her hands.

If Ran so much as touched her sister, Aerilyn would break every bone in his body. She would slice his skin and gouge his eyes out…and now she knew that she was sounding like the brutal beast she knew hid deep within. Ever since her torture five years ago at the hands of the Outlanders, it had dwelled within her, growling in anticipation, waiting to be set free and have its revenge.

Peter watched her in concern. He was worried that she would lash out like a wild animal…yet he couldn't just observe her in such suffering. Tentatively, he crossed the cell and rested a heavy hand on the young woman's shoulder. She whirled around to face him, her copper hair flying behind her like a fan. There was something rabid in her blue-green eyes.

He wanted to say something, to console her somehow in her crazy state…but what was he supposed to say? Telling her it would be alright would only be a lie. The door creaked open and keys jingled like bells as someone descended the stairs and the flaming torch was raised to illuminate the irritatingly smug face of Gareth.

Aerilyn strode towards the bars and gripped them with such force that Gareth took a staggering step backwards. That was the thing about the copper-haired young woman – she appeared so calm, but there was hatred deep inside her…not burning hot like most, but something more dangerous. Aerilyn's hatred was ice-cold and deadly.

"I will tear you to pieces," Aerilyn whispered to him, making Gareth's already round eyes widen, "I will quarter you and scatter your limbs to the dust."

Gareth observed her for a few more moments, swallowing hard. Peter, sitting across the cell over on the bench, could see that the man was afraid of her. He had probably helped to break Aerilyn and she would show him no mercy.

"You have been convicted of treason against the King," Gareth informed the pair of them in an airy tone, trying to suppress his initial discomfort, "The charges do not need to be stated. Treason in itself is a crime and is punishable by death."

It couldn't be true. Aerilyn's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Gareth must be keeping her and Peter imprisoned for a different reason. What if he was going to bring Ran to them? Suddenly engulfed by a wave of cold fear, Aerilyn's hands tightened around the bars and her pearly white teeth glittered ominously in the candlelight.

"You lie," she hissed at him, so venomously that Gareth actually took a step back. "Why don't you tell me why we're really here? What have we done to offend you?"

Gareth had to remind himself that Aerilyn was behind bars. She couldn't harm him and he chastised himself for allowing himself to be frightened by her. Ran had torn any semblance of a soul from her along with her innocence.

"You'll just have to wait and see," Gareth muttered, so low that Peter couldn't hear him. Then he inclined his head and walked away. Aerilyn watched as the flickering torch grew smaller and smaller before vanishing completely, pitching her back into darkness.

* * *

Violet hesitated as she saw the Outlanders all gathered around the campfire, shouting curses and spitting disdainfully at her feet. The man behind her pushed her hard in the small of the back and they crowed with laughter as she stumbled and nearly tripped. Their faces were all feral and ruthless in the fiery orange glint of the fire and Violet swallowed, knowing that she didn't stand a chance.

Ran stood closest to the fire, his face still pinched with pain as he nursed his broken fingers. Violet felt a surge of vicious satisfaction and she forced herself to hold her head high as she approached him. There was a smile on his face as she approached – and it was pure evil. Violet didn't know his intentions but her stomach lurched in complaint, knowing it couldn't be good.

"Behold, the great Narnian warrior, Violet."

Ran's voice was dripping with sarcasm and the other Outlanders snickered around him. Violet flushed angrily, loathing the fact that her youth was the factor which made most people doubt her. She had downed trebuchets with a mere bow and arrows and that had been when she was thirteen. She was older now and no less dangerous.

"Do you know why you are here, girl?" Ran asked of her.

Violet sneered. "I'm here so that you can lure in the Narnians. You think they're so oblivious – but you're fools, all of you. Telani tried this with Milla and what happened? She and Jadis were killed."

Ran threw back his head and laughed, but the sound held no mirth. In fact when he looked back at Violet, his eyes were horribly cold and empty. Her hands clenched instinctively into fists. She was prepared to strike him if she had to…but it would be lunacy with all of the other Outlanders surrounding her.

"You are here to answer for the crimes committed by the Narnians against the Outlanders. You do know, don't you, that your infallible High King and his siblings were responsible for the deaths of Outlanders barely older than you are?"

Violet didn't know how to answer. She felt her breathing quicken and watched these people all around her, jeering at her. She knew how this 'trial' was going to end…in her death. All she wanted was for it to be over and done with. All she wanted was for Ran to stop with the pretences.

_Have courage, young one._ There was no doubting that was Aslan's voice in her mind and Violet straightened herself up to full height. She might only be fifteen years old, but she was no child to be patronized. Her dark eyes roved over all of them and her expression was dispassionate.

"Kill me then," Violet dared, her narrowed gaze resting on Ran, "Kill me, if you want. The Narnians won't stop until they've hunted you down. The Pevensies will have your head. If you give me back, they might show you clemency…but if you kill me, they certainly won't."

The murmurs started around the campfire and Violet felt a victorious smile curving her lips as she guessed perhaps Ran wasn't as powerful as he liked to believe. Indeed, he looked a bit deterred at the whisperings and he frowned impatiently.

"Do you seriously believe the word of this…_girl_?" he spat, jabbing an accusing finger at Violet, "What does _she _know? Do you fail to remember that she was once one of us?"

He had walked right into her trap. Far from looking frightened, Violet lifted her chin and smirked across at Ran.

"I defected, as you might all well remember…yet here I stand. The Narnians will reward those who stand with, as they did me, but if I'd joined them first and you second, I've no doubt that you would have cut my throat."

Violet was right and they knew it. She and Ran stared at each other across the campfire as the Outlanders whispered. A nerve twitched in Ran's forehead and he looked infuriated, while Violet's expression was smug. Little girl or not, she had the upper hand in this argument.

"Enough!" bellowed Ran, and all chatter ceased immediately as his glittering gaze turned back upon Violet, "The girl speaks, but her words are those of Peter Pevensie. They'd give us no more mercy than we'd give them. So the time has come to make your decision – should we keep this girl alive, or should we kill her for the sins of her benefactors?"

Everyone started shouting at once. Some pointed at Violet, their faces twisted with rage, while others remained doubtful of what stance they should take. Veronica leaped down and went to mutter in Ran's ear and although he scowled, he nodded and held up a hand. Silence fell and Violet apprehensively awaited the verdict.

"Why should _she _die?" Another Outlander spoke up, folding his arms across his chest, "She's a child. If we are to punish anyone, should we not punish the person who is responsible? Should we not punish Peter Pevensie?"

Roars of approval resounded around the campfire as the Outlanders shook their fists. Ran grinned as he recognized that the vote was unanimous. While the Outlanders might have their qualms about killing a young girl, they all felt the same white-hot rage towards the High King of Narnia. It was because of him that they had been banished, driven from their own place and forced to flee into the shadows.

"Do you hear them cheer, Violet?" Ran asked quietly as he paced towards her, his eyes practically alight, "They call for your King's blood…and they will have it. Once Aerilyn arrives, everything will be as it should."

* * *

The door clanged open and Aerilyn got to her feet, her eyes shining determinedly. Peter watched her wearily and wondered what she was planning to do now. From the darkness outside it was nighttime and Aerilyn frowned as there was a scuffling noise and someone swore. After a few moments, two silhouetted figures came into view, the moonlight sparkling through the open door and reflecting off their armour.

"Don't you recognize us?" An amused voice asked as one of the guards removed his helmet – to reveal a very familiar blond-haired young man. Peter immediately shot up and crossed over to the bars.

"Mike!"

The other man took off his helmet and sure enough, Falcon's dark hair and shiny ear piercings were revealed. He nudged past Mike and busied himself twisting the key in the lock. The door opened with an earsplitting screech, and Peter and Aerilyn filed out. Peter clapped his two friends on the shoulders, smiling appreciatively.

"You came for us."

Falcon raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "You didn't seriously think we'd just leave you down here to rot, did you?"

Aerilyn swallowed hard and looked around the dark, dank walls of the dungeons where she and Peter had been held prisoner. It reminded her horribly of the state of her mind. She had never wanted to become a captive ever again…and she had, once again, at the hands of the Outlanders. Enough was enough. Aerilyn just wanted out of these dungeons.

"Please," Her voice was hoarse and Peter turned to look at her with concern shining from his bright blue eyes, "Please, just get me out. Get me out of here."

Falcon and Mike exchanged troubled glances, but lead the way up the damp stairs. Aerilyn allowed herself a small, rather vicious smile as she saw the real guards slumped unconscious outside the dungeon entrance. She swept past them with an air of superiority, towards where Mike and Falcon had tethered three horses.

"Only three?" Aerilyn asked rather disappointedly.

Mike scowled. "It's better than on foot. You can ride with Peter, if you'd like."

_If she'd like._ Aerilyn seethed with indignation. So because she was a woman, she had to ride with a man? Her eyes narrowed and she glowered at Mike, yet he simply and didn't relent. Falcon handed Peter his sword and Aerilyn her bow and arrows as Mike moved to untie the horses. A shadow figure scuttled past and Aerilyn whirled around, fitting an arrow to her bow.

Gareth staggered into view, gasping for breath and wielding a small dagger. Aerilyn glanced at him with utter contempt. He looked so very _pathetic_. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and she was completely prepared to end his miserable life, to spare him from having to face an irate Ran…

"Aerilyn, stop."

She lowered the bow slightly and turned over her shoulder to glower at Mike. The young man had taken a step towards her, shaking his head slowly. He glanced at Gareth with the same distaste Aerilyn felt, yet somehow he couldn't allow her to kill the man in cold blood. He was barely even a threat.

"Let him be."

"Why?" It was Falcon who had spoken, and Aerilyn noticed he had been reaching for an arrow of his own. He whirled around to confront Mike as Aerilyn kept her piercing gaze fixed on Gareth. "He's a danger to us all. He was part of the ritual that ended Milla's life! Why should we let this piece of filth live?"

His voice was raw with emotion. Falcon's grey eyes flashed with anger and he bared his teeth at Mike, challenging him. Aerilyn stretched her bow taut. She didn't take commands from the likes of Mike. He was a man who could never understand the pain and torment she had experienced. Let them punish her afterwards, but Gareth's life ended tonight.

"Aerilyn." It was Peter's voice now. "That's enough."

She closed her eyes in defeat and lowered the bow with great reluctance. Mike she might be able to defy, but never Peter. He had done everything he could for her and she would not repay him by showing him the monstrosity she was capable of. Gareth stood there with wild eyes, his breathing ragged as the knife rattled in his grasp.

"I'll spare your life," she spat at him, "I'll show you mercy where you showed me none. Remember this day, Gareth. Now run along to Ran and tell him…tell him that we're coming for him."

Mike gasped audibly and Falcon was staring incredulously at her. Even Gareth regarded her with definite trepidation, but that cruel smile remained across Aerilyn's lips. She knew that by the time Gareth returned to Ran's side, it would already be far too late. Ran couldn't make another move before Aerilyn, Peter, Falcon and Mike arrived.

"Anything else?" Gareth asked, amazingly managing to stop his voice from quavering.

Aerilyn's face was completely devoid of emotion as the heartless smile spread until it was overtaking her.

"Tell him I am going to rip out his throat."


	15. Suffering in Silence

**Chapter Fourteen: Suffering in Silence**

**A/N: We're approaching the end of No Air! Only a few more chapters left to go…but luckily this is my last week of school so in the holidays updates should be faster. However, if next chapter's a little late, it's because I have a few essays to do…thanks as always to: princess emma of narnia, shippolove844, Gangster1995, Rayven49, FelipeMarcusThomas, CityGirl13, Daddyscowgirl94, Darth Rapture, MysteryGirl246 and Elizabeth Zara.**

* * *

Some people in Cair Paravel thought she was reckless, attempting to deal with another murder case at nearly four months pregnant. Some people thought she was endangering the baby. Safara didn't give a damn about what people thought, because she wouldn't be a very effective Princess if she did.

Tarin had returned slightly late from his journey south, where he had been keeping an anxious eye on the progress of the four. He had relayed the complications of Aerilyn and Peter being captured, but confirmed that Mike and Falcon had intervened and they were now continuing south.

To be brutally honest, Safara didn't much care about all of this. She was more concerned about Hope's death and was almost certain that the sneaky Outlander, Layla, had everything to do with it. Perhaps she'd seen Hope entering Cair Paravel and knew the naiad wanted to tell the monarchs something.

The time for secrecy was over. Safara was sick of playing games, of pretending not to know what the Outlanders were up to. She strode into the infirmary, where the healers immediately clustered around her like bees drawn to honey. Due to her pregnant state, they fussed over her something terrible whenever she entered.

"Good morning, your Highness! Is everything alright?"

"No complications with the baby?"

"Do you need a herbal drink, Princess?"

Safara waved them all away with a rather irritated gesture.

"No, thank you. I'm fine. What I _would_ like is to see the body of the naiad, Hope."

The healers gasped collectively and one, with vivid red hair, shook her head vigorously, her eyes wide and horrified.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, your Highness. Considering your delicate condition…"

Safara's eyes narrowed threateningly. "I can assure you, my 'condition' won't be a problem. I just need to investigate this a little more thoroughly."

The red-haired healer was adamant. "I'm sorry, Princess, but I cannot let you…"

Safara folded her arms across her chest and sighed. Why was it that being pregnant meant she was treated like a cripple? She could tell that the healers were not going to risk Edmund's wrath by letting her see Hope, so she'd just have to gather her information another way.

"Alright. Then could you tell me the state of her body then? All the wounds that were present?"

It was an almost sarcastic question. Safara half-hoped the healers wouldn't be able to answer it, so that she would have a valid excuse to see Hope's body. However, the red-haired one nodded fervently, still looking rather frightened.

"It's most strange, your Highness. After all the blood covering her body, we were expecting to find a severe knife wound…but there was none. The only mark on her was a burn mark on her left arm, definitely not severe enough to have killed her. It's most odd. We are currently investigating the possibilities that she was perhaps poisoned, or suffocated…"

A shiver ran down Safara's spine. Hope wouldn't have been poisoned or suffocated. There had just been far too much blood for that. Now Safara suspected magic, the dark kind. What kind of magic could have killed Hope in such a way that it left her mainly unblemished? It scared Safara, the power that most sorcerers had. The burn mark was curious, but Safara guessed it was an old scar, certainly nothing that could have caused Hope's death.

"Thank you for your time," Safara inclined her head to the healers, trying to conceal how disturbed this new information made her. Something much darker was at work here and it troubled her. Something worse than Layla was lurking in Cair Paravel…and despite the fact it may have severe consequences, Safara was determined that she would find out who – or what – had done this.

* * *

Violet was terrified, yet she knew that she didn't have any other option. She would not allow the Outlanders to lure in and kill people who were her friends…so she had devised a plan. The Outlanders relied on her being too afraid to leave the tent in which she was held prisoner, and that arrogance would be their undoing.

Violet poked her head out of the tent and looked around. There were only a few Outlanders on patrol, enough so that they would be able to alert the others but a scant enough number so that most could get some sleep and take it in shifts. The grim hint of a smile crossed Violet's lips as she dropped to her knees and started to crawl.

Violet, counting on her small size to conceal her, continued to army-crawl through the dirt. The darkness of the night should hide her and even if one of the Outlanders heard her scuffling, they'd most likely dismiss the sound as some sort of animal. Despite the fact that she just wanted to get up and run, sprint away as fast as she could, Violet knew she couldn't do that. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to be patient.

It seemed to take forever for Violet to crawl up towards the hill, past the last patrolling Outlander, a man with a crooked nose as if it had been broken several times. The spangled carpet of night sky overhead provided her with a blanket of protection and she grinned as she turned and looked behind her at the torches burning at various intervals, at the olive-green tents swaying in the slight breeze.

Violet was just clambering to her feet when she slipped over a rock and found herself crashing violently back down to the earth. She started to panic, cursing her haste and hoping no one had heard – but the Outlander with the crooked nose turned slowly, his torch illuminating her scared face as she once again struggled to stand.

"You!" The man spat, advancing on her, "What do you think you're doing, you little brat? Trying to escape? You're a right pain in the neck, you are. Don't even see why they bother keeping you around. Well, I think I'll just tell Ran that you were attempting to escape, and I tried to bring you back, but you died in the struggle, hmm?"

Violet's dark eyes widened as she saw the Outlander reaching slowly towards his sword. There was a toothy grin about his face and Violet flinched at the sound of metal slicing into flesh, wanting to throw up at the sickly noise. The Outlander staggered backwards with his own sword shining cold silver in the moonlight, driven into his chest.

Violet was shaking as she realized what had happened – it had all been so fast. She had grabbed the sword before the Outlander had the chance and quickly used it to impale him. Of course, Violet had killed before…but it had never been in a manner such as this. Watching the Outlander flailing, yanking the sword and throwing it to the ground, Violet found herself frozen in horror.

When he finally collapsed and the blood crept out around him like a spreading cloak, Violet doubled over and retched into the dirt, unable to stomach the sight of what she'd done. What did this make her? She had killed a man in self-defence. She dithered there in the dirt for a few moments, trying to decide what she was going to do now.

When Violet finally came to her senses, she breathed out a shuddering sigh and used the man's shirt to clean the blood off the sword, wrinkling her nose in disgust and forcing back bile. She nearly threw up again, but forced herself to swallow. She couldn't afford to be weak anymore…and she couldn't just leave the sword lying around. Violet felt that as the one who had killed the man, she had to bear the burden of being the one to carry his sword.

Violet marched away from the Outlanders' camp in complete silence. She glanced back over her shoulder once, glancing at the pretty little torches illuminated like stars in an engulfing blackness, and wondered vaguely why she hadn't burned it all down.

* * *

Aerilyn bitterly wished for a campfire, shivering in the horrid cold. Peter had declared that they were far too close to the Outlanders to even think of such a thing. It would be suicidal, so Falcon and Mike had condemned themselves to a cool night, while Aerilyn felt suffocated by the encroaching darkness and its myriad of monsters…and she was one of them.

"Would you really have killed Gareth?" Peter asked quietly after about half an hour had passed and he was certain that Falcon and Mike were asleep. He shifted closer to Aerilyn, sitting right beside her so that their shoulders were pressed together. He convinced himself that he was doing it to gain warmth.

Aerilyn laughed sourly. "Oh, Peter. Do you still not understand me? You are really so naïve. Of course I would have killed him. You have _no _idea what it was like to…but you know why I didn't?"

"Why?" Peter echoed the word, hoping that it would be because Aerilyn had seen the error of her ways, that she didn't want to be a woman so full of rage and vengeance. However, he knew that wasn't the real reason. Her blue-green eyes bored into his bright blue ones and he found that he already knew the answer.

"Because you asked me not to," Aerilyn murmured softly, averting her eyes and finding that her cheeks were growing hot. "Because despite everything, I can't help but feel that…we have a connection."

Peter was silent for a few moments, contemplating this.

"How did you know that Mike was the one who brought Milla back? Is that even true?"

Aerilyn squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. "It is. Knowledge is a burden, Peter Pevensie. I'm sure you know that by now. The more you know, the more miserable you become. Sometimes it's better just to be ignorant."

She sat there, brooding in the darkness with her scars ever so slightly glinting in the moonlight – yet to Peter, she had never looked more beautiful. He had finally acknowledged this was what he'd been avoiding, having affairs with numerous women to skirt around…love. Peter had fallen in love with the least likely person possible and now he found that he didn't regret it. He was only saddened, greatly saddened, for reasons he couldn't begin to comprehend.

"Aerilyn." He forced the word out through a dry, constricted throat. "You…you are an amazing woman. After all this time, it's become so blindingly obvious and I don't know why I didn't see it before. I…I love you."

He reached out a gentle hand as if to touch her cheek, but Aerilyn's eyes were like chips of ice as she batted him away. Peter didn't understand. Didn't Aerilyn want warmth to complement the bitter coldness that lingered inside her, like a frozen winter eating away at her from the inside out and leaving her the person he'd seen who could kill without mercy?

"Please don't."Aerilyn shook her head fervently, her shoulders tensing. "You are the High King. You deserve someone who is beautiful and kind-hearted. I'm a scarred, ruined woman. I'm not the sort of person Narnia wants or even needs as a monarch. All they know is that I'm Reynald's killer. You know that I can't be a Princess. Look at me."

It broke Peter's heart to hear her speaking in such a manner. Aerilyn possessed the elegance and poise of a royal – well, more so than Safara. Once the Narnians found out the truth about the Outlanders, they would surely feel the same pity for her that Peter did…only he knew that Aerilyn would hate that. She despised pity. She would not want their sympathy.

"I don't _want _some empty-headed idiot," Peter protested earnestly as Aerilyn shrank even further away, like a frightened animal, "I want you, Aerilyn. Is…is that the problem? Don't you love me? How do you feel about me?"

Aerilyn laughed sourly as she jumped to her feet. "How _should _I feel, Peter? You know that I can be a monster. Don't try and pretend like there can be a happily ever after. There will never _be _a you and me. It just can't work like that."

She turned quickly on her heel so that she didn't have to see the hurt spark in Peter's eyes. Before he could call her back, she was hurrying through the trees, choking back tears, stumbling aimlessly. Aerilyn didn't want Peter to see her crying. All she wanted was to be alone, to make sense of her conflicted feelings. A part of her was screaming to be with Peter, ached for the love she had been so long denied…yet another part of her was certain it wouldn't work.

Aerilyn sat down heavily on a stunted tree trunk and pressed her face into her hands, crying her heart out. Why couldn't love be the perfect thing she'd always imagined it to be? Why did everything in her life have to be so painful?

The crunch of a boot on dry leaves made Aerilyn look up suddenly. Her eyes narrowed in anger and she was sure that Peter had followed her, would attempt to plea with her. Only when she saw the silhouetted figure moving closer did she start to hyperventilate, nearly tripping over her own feet as she retreated.

"No…no…"

It had to be a figment of her imagination – yet her nightmares came to life as Ran's face was thrown into sharp relief in the moonlight, grinning across at Aerilyn with definite insanity. Suddenly she couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. It was if she was caged all over again, as if she could never escape.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the lovely Aerilyn – or at least, what's left of her."


	16. Set Fire To The Rain

**Chapter Fifteen: Set Fire To The Rain**

**A/N: Holidays, my friends. That means more frequent updates…well, I hope so, at least. Anyway, huge thanks to: Darth Rapture, CityGirl13, FelipeMarcusThomas, Elizabeth Zara, earth17, Pimpinellifolia, MissLorraineScarlet, Rayven49, shippolove844, princess emma of narnia and MysteryGirl246**

* * *

_Aerilyn couldn't move. All she could do was lie there, consumed with disgust at herself, at what had happened…and with pure loathing for the man who had turned her into this mess. Blue-black finger marks still encircled her wrists from when he'd held her down. The first time, Aerilyn had cried and begged and screamed. This time, she had been silent, defying him. Why would she bring more shame upon herself? Was this her fault?_

"_Look at me," Ran hissed, grabbing Aerilyn's chin and turning her tear-stained face towards him. Her blue-green eyes blazed with hatred and she spat bitterly in his face. She blamed him and herself at the same time. She was a jumbled ruin of what she'd once been. Aerilyn had once been beautiful but now…now she was hideous._

_Ran's teeth flashed like pale knives as he curled his hand into a fist and struck her across the face. Aerilyn didn't make a sound as her head cracked to the side and Ran clenched his jaw in rage. Why wouldn't the damn girl cry out? Was she even human? How could she take so much pain and humiliation and be so…indifferent?_

_Ran reached slowly for the knife in his belt, savouring the knowledge that Aerilyn knew exactly what he was doing. Five mangled cuts already marred her once-lovely face. It was time to render the sixth and teach her not to defy him._

_Something flashed in Aerilyn's eyes as she saw the knife being pulled free and then she fought against him, fought with all her might. Although weakened by the torment she'd experienced in the past few days, Aerilyn's determination and rage leant her strength. The element of surprise played a large part in her success as she wrestled for the knife._

_Ran's triumphant expression fell from his face and dread sparked in his eyes as Aerilyn took possession of the knife. She was shaking with anger and when she stabbed him viciously, it was only in the shoulder. Ran rolled to the side with a bellow of pain and Aerilyn staggered to her feet, gathering her wits about her and running from the tent where she was held prisoner, running until her feet hurt and her lungs burned._

_Aerilyn collapsed to the ground. She didn't know how far she was from the Outlanders' camp, but she didn't think she cared. With the stars looking coldly down on her, unfeeling and uncaring towards her predicament, Aerilyn pressed her face into her hands and sobbed. When she finally pulled her fingers away, Aerilyn thought she saw one of the stars streaking across the heavens, and thought she heard a lion's roar._

_She was going insane._

* * *

Safara thought she may well by psychic. As she'd predicted, Edmund had been irritable about the fact that she was nosing around in Hope's death, yet he also expressed his concerns when she informed him of the oddity of it all. After speaking with Susan and Lucy also, the royal family was at a loss to say what might have caused Hope's death. The only explanation was powerful dark magic and the notion of such a thing made them all troubled.

"Safara!"

It was Susan. She had missed breakfast inexplicably, and now was hurrying down the corridor towards the Princess with wide blue eyes. Safara turned to face her and registered the solemnity of Susan's expression, knowing that things were only about to get worse. She mentally braced herself for what was to come.

"It can't have been Layla," Susan shook back her dark wavy hair, "Now I don't know _what _to think."

Of course, that had been the easy option. Blaming Layla and hoping that the lone Outsider functioning in Cair Paravel had tried to silence Hope, for one reason or another. Now that that option was clearly out of the question, Safara was even more troubled than before. Because if Layla hadn't killed Hope…who had? A chill down her spine.

"Why not?" Safara asked, dreading the answer, "Does she have an alibi?"

Susan laughed mirthlessly, but the frustration was written all over her face.

"Layla's dead, Safara. I just found out. She has been for around the same amount of time as Hope. I just don't understand it. I mean, I know the Narnians were suspicious of Layla…but I've spoken to Edmund and he didn't authorize her death. It's just getting worse. I know an ally must have killed Layla…only who?"

The baby kicked insistently and Safara placed a hand on her belly almost automatically. This kid was sure going to be a little rough nut.

"This is just too weird," Safara murmured, attempting to telepathically stop the baby from kicking – it wasn't working. "I mean, this is getting creepily similar to Reynald's murder. The mystery, the suspense…"

Susan sighed heavily and nodded her agreement.

"Yes. The only reason we found out about Aerilyn was because of Tarin's confession."

It hit Safara then like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes widened as if she suddenly understood everything and Susan noted this with a slight frown. She reached out towards Safara, but the younger girl turned on her heel and marched determinedly down the corridor – well, it was starting to become more of a waddle due to her pregnancy.

When she finally reached Tarin's room, she hammered her fist on the door, pounding profusely until he opened up with an astonished expression on his face. His hair was rumpled and it looked like he'd just woken up.

"Safara? Is something wrong?"

"Yes," Safara spat through her teeth, "Something is very wrong. In fact, I daresay you _know _what's wrong, Tarin."

She planted her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows, as if waiting for all of Tarin's sins to come pouring out like water from a fountain. Instead he just eyed her in complete shock as if he didn't have a clue what was going on.

"I don't know what you mean."

Safara's green-brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. Subtly, she reached for the dagger she always had strapped to her person – because since the murders, Edmund had insisted she never go anywhere unguarded.

"Don't lie to me." Safara whipped out her dagger and pressed it to a startled Tarin's throat. She might be a pregnant girl, but she was still worth something. "You're under arrest, Tarin. For the murders of Lord Reynald, Layla…and Hope."

* * *

A crackling of twigs made Peter whip around. He wanted to think that it was Aerilyn coming back…only the chill down his spine told him this was something completely different. He sat bolt upright…and he wasn't the only one. Mike and Falcon had been woken by the distinct snapping noises, glancing around them.

"I'll see what's going on," Mike muttered, drawing his sword and clambering to his feet, disappearing into the darkness before anyone could stop him.

There were a few moments of complete silence, before a girl's piercing scream ripped through the fog of tension. A man's grunt met their ears. Falcon glanced apprehensively across at the High King, who remained impassive. The sound of twigs snapping came again, but as Falcon and Peter stiffened, it was Mike who stumbled from between the trees with a small, violently struggling prisoner.

"Let me go!" A very familiar girl's voice snarled. Despite the blackness of the night, Peter's eyes were well-adjusted by now and when the dark-haired girl threw back her curls, he saw without a doubt that it was Violet. Mike seemed to have come to the same conclusion, for he released her arm as suddenly as if it was on fire.

"Violet?" he asked incredulously, "What are you doing here?"

The girl's eyes widened as she examined the company of young men. Clearly she'd thought they had been Outlanders. From the way Mike was ruefully rubbing at his jaw, Peter guessed that Violet had probably punched him. For some reason, this notion amused him.

"I thought the Outlanders had you," Falcon frowned as he settled back down and rested his head on his arms. Now that the threat of danger had passed, he had fallen back into his previous state of contentment. "How did you manage to get here?"

"I escaped," Violet proclaimed proudly, raking back her rather messed-up curls. Now that Peter examined her, she was a mess – but it was nothing compared to what he'd been expecting. While Violet's face and arms were smeared with grime and dirt, there were no cuts marring her appearance and – at least, he hoped – she hadn't been raped.

The young girl yawned and stretched her arms above her head.

"Look here, do any of you have water? I've been staggering around through this forest for Aslan knows how long!"

Mike's lips were pressed together and he was eyeing Violet beadily, as if still uncertain what to make of her sudden appearance.

"I'll let you have a bit of mine if you tell us what happened," he offered.

Violet nodded her consent and for a few moments, she gulped down water with the fervency of one who has never expected to see it again. When she was done, she wiped her mouth and passed Mike back his bottle, before she crossed her legs and started her story.

Peter listened as Violet explained how she was put on trial before the Outlanders, how they planned to use her as bait to lure him in. Peter wasn't surprised that the Outlanders were calling for his blood, but their methods of ensuring his death did disturb him.

Violet's tone became flat when she detailed her escape, how she'd snuck past all but one guard unseen, and how she'd been forced to kill the Outlander who had spotted her. The proof of her words lay with the sword she now carried at her side.

"Ran said Aerilyn was with you." Violet looked around her with a frown of puzzlement on her face. By this time, Falcon had fallen asleep once more and Mike was yawning and clearly intended to get some more rest herself. "She's not here?"

Mike suddenly sat upright, looking around him. He'd clearly just noticed Aerilyn's absence himself and he stared across at Peter as the High King waved a tired hand in a careless manner. The young woman would return in her own time. Peter wasn't going to follow her, because he knew that Aerilyn must want peace.

"Aerilyn needs some alone time," Peter mumbled wearily, ignoring Mike's open stare and not wanting to explain the situation, "Look, it's nothing serious."

Violet looked completely horrified. Her dark eyes were huge and her mouth was open in a gape of shock.

"So…so Aerilyn _is _with you?"

Peter glanced quizzically across at the girl, not understanding her objection to Aerilyn's involvement. Violet most likely still saw Aerilyn as Reynald's murderer…only the young woman had accompanied Peter, Mike and Falcon to save her – and also to have her ultimate revenge.

"Yes, why?"

Violet shook her head vigorously and there was something so urgent about her expression, something that made Peter start to feel apprehensive. What had Violet so spooked? Surely she wasn't that averse to Aerilyn?

"She…she's leading you into a trap. Ran was gloating about it when I was his prisoner. He said you wouldn't suspect a thing and that Aerilyn was actually leading you to your death…Peter, you can't trust her…"

Peter raised his eyebrows. Why would Violet even believe anything Ran told her? The words of Outlanders were lies, all of them false promises engineered to bring about the downfall of the Narnians. Violet was only falling straight into the trap Ran had set up for her and the High King shook his head slowly, reaching out to touch Violet gently on the shoulder.

"Listen, Violet. No matter how convincing Ran sounds, all he does is tell lies. You can't believe anything he says. Please trust me. You don't know Aerilyn as well as I do. She's hurting inside and we can help her…"

"Peter!" Mike's voice was sharp.

"No," Violet whispered, pointing an accusing finger as a haunted gleam entered her eyes, "No, we can't help her, Peter."

Peter turned slowly to see what Violet was pointing at. Mike had clambered to his feet with his sword in his hand and was desperately kicking at Falcon, attempting to wake him up. But Peter didn't care about any of that, because he was more concerned about the small group of Outlanders filtering through the trees.

There were only five in all – but they still outnumbered the Narnians. Ran stood at their head, his chin tilted upwards and a complacent smirk crossing his lips. Mike immediately stepped protectively in front of Violet…only it wasn't Ran that Peter was looking at, either.

Because a woman with copper hair had moved forward with her bow strung and a completely, horribly empty look in her blue-green eyes. As Peter watched with trepidation, Aerilyn lifted her chin and offered him a heartless smile.

"Hello, Peter. Surprised?"


	17. I've Become So Numb

**Chapter Sixteen: I've Become So Numb**

**A/N: I told you updates were going to be quicker now! Anyway, about three or four more chapters left now. Thanks to: MysteryGirl246, Darth Rapture, FelipeMarcusThomas, CityGirl13, earth17, Elessar, wolves-rain-chick, princess emma of narnia, EgyLynx, Daddyscowgirl94, shippolove844, Elizabeth Zara and EcoSeeker247.**

* * *

Tarin held up his hands in surrender, his eyes wide as he took a few steps backwards. Safara observed him with that fire in her eyes, the fire that ruled her entire being. The dark-haired young man shook his head fervently, determined to make the Princess understand.

"I swear by Aslan, I didn't kill Lord Reynald! I can't claim the same for the others, but I promise on…on _anything_ that I did not play any part in Reynald's death!"

Tarin sounded terrified, but Safara held no sympathy for him. Aerilyn may be a murderer for valid reasons, but could Tarin claim the same? Safara pressed the dagger harder against Tarin's throat, so that he lifted his chin and blood started to trickle slowly down the blade.

"Why did you do it, then?" she demanded of him, not relinquishing her grip in the slightest, "Everyone has their reasons…so what are yours? I'm prepared to listen to you, Tarin, but that doesn't mean I'm going to show you mercy."

Safara heard the cold hardness of her own voice. Her position was as immovable as a mountain. She was no frail pregnant girl. Tarin could see that despite the Princess's condition, she was ruthless when it came to the persecution of murderers. He sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped. He supposed he'd just have to tell her the truth as well. Tarin had become caught within his own web of lies and now he needed to pull free.

"It's obvious when you look into my eyes, your Highness. Look at me and tell me what you see."

Tarin's eyes flicked upwards and at first Safara was puzzled, but then she noticed the slow shift to crimson and she gasped. The dagger dropped from her hand and clattered to the ground as Tarin's eyes took on the same colour as the line of blood that crossed his throat. Safara took a stumbling step backwards as she recognized Tarin for what he really was.

Tarin's smile was tight. "Once there was a beautiful Archenland lady who fell in love. Her parents disapproved of the man she was with – there was evil in him, they said, evil coursing through his veins. The lady didn't see it, though. She was too blind and too in love…so they ran away together. Only when she fell pregnant with his child did the man reveal himself to be a djinn in human guise. Then he left her and never returned."

Tarin's story was so brief and his tone so flat that he could have been speaking about a fictitious story, only when Safara saw the gleam of bitterness in his crimson eyes, she understood that he was speaking about himself. _He _had been the child.

"I'm half-djinn," Tarin shot at Safara, his mouth wrinkling in distaste, "Oh, how they hated me in Archenland. You see, that was why I came here. Because when they found out what I was, they wanted nothing more to do with me. I am cursed. I can see the disgust in your eyes now and it's just the same, Safara. Everywhere I go, I'm damned for what I am."

"How is that any excuse for murder?" Safara demanded, recovering from her shock but still maintaining her distance. She had no idea if Tarin's half-djinn heritage meant that he was able to use dark magic like his father.

"Aerilyn knew," Tarin continued, the hint of a smile crossing his lips, "She knew, and she understood. But I knew that if I revealed the fact that she murdered Lord Reynald, she would turn against me…"

"Yet she didn't!" Safara exclaimed, wishing she could reach down and sweep up the dagger but knowing it would give Tarin a chance to attack her if that was what he wished, "She never betrayed your secret."

"Hope found out." Tarin's face became stiff as marble. "I don't know how, but we creatures of Narnia have a way of recognizing one another. She was disgusted by the very thought of me. That's why she came back, you know. She was going to tell Susan that I was half-djinn and that she suspected me of assisting Aerilyn…which isn't true. So I set fire around her lake and it evaporated."

"So you killed her," Safara hissed at him, her hands balling into fists, "You killed her because she knew the truth…are you going to kill me as well? People are going to find out eventually. You can't kill them all."

"I panicked!" Tarin shouted, his crimson eyes flickering and glowing like hot embers, "The first thing I could think of was silencing Hope. So yes, I killed her. I know it was lunacy and I wish it undone…but I was scared, Safara."

Safara observed him with contempt written all over her face. Fear was no excuse. If that was Tarin's reason for killing Hope, then it was a pathetic one.

"What about Layla?"

Tarin shrugged evenly. "She tried to kill me when I came back to Cair Paravel, so I killed _her._"

Safara shook her head slowly. In the event of Layla's death, she said good riddance…but she still couldn't get over the fact that Tarin had murdered Hope for such a trivial reason. Tarin's eyebrows contracted into a terse V as he waited for the Princess's reaction.

"You're a monster," Safara shot at him, which made Tarin grimace as if she had physically hit him. There was pain in his eyes – which were slowly morphing back to their normal blue.

"I didn't want this to happen!" Tarin protested, and then he pressed his mouth into a thin white line and glowered at Safara. "Besides, we're all monsters, in one way or another. I might be a monster by birth, but people like the Outlanders? They're monsters by choice."

* * *

Peter's eyes searched Aerilyn's face, tried to find any semblance of emotion within her. She just stood with her head held high, as if she cared nothing for the scars that had destroyed her beauty, or the man standing behind her who had destroyed her innocence. Her eyes were an ocean-coloured void. Peter didn't think he had ever seen Aerilyn so…cold.

"Don't look so shocked, Peter," Ran chuckled as he placed a hand on Aerilyn's shoulder. After all that he had done, Peter expected Aerilyn to at least flinch – but she remained stoic. Had her story been a complete lie after all? "Aerilyn played her part perfectly. She managed to earn your trust and then led you straight to me. You thought she was on her your side because that was what was supposed to happen…what's the matter, Peter? Does it hurt to be deceived?"

Peter couldn't believe what he was hearing. He just wanted this to be a nightmare so that he could wake up. He expected the others to be shocked, but only Mike was staring at Aerilyn with blatant disbelief – Violet and Falcon both had contemptuous expressions on their face, as though they'd been expecting this the whole time…which they probably had.

"Is this true?" Peter asked hoarsely, desperately of Aerilyn. He knew he sounded pathetic, but he just wished she would shake her head and proclaim Ran a liar, say he made her do this. Instead, Aerilyn's face remained an impassive mask and she inclined her head. Peter felt that she was totally ice-cold, as if he couldn't reach out to her. Aerilyn had become so completely numb, so devoid of emotion, that Peter wanted to break down to his knees.

"Yes." Aerilyn's reply was curt.

A cruel smile spread across Ran's features as he threw back his head and laughed delightedly. His hand slipped off Aerilyn's shoulders and she blinked at the sudden break of contact, stepping forward slightly as if in a trance.

Ran observed Peter disdainfully. "How the mighty have fallen. You are truly naïve enough to think that no one would ever betray you?"

Violet was glaring at Aerilyn was hatred burning deep within her dark eyes. She had known all along what Aerilyn was like. She hadn't wanted to believe Ran, but the proof was right in front of her.

Falcon bared his teeth and turned to face Peter.

"I told you she was a traitor. I've been telling you the whole time. You're a fool for trusting her!"

Falcon's sharp words made Peter flinch, but he turned to face his friend with his blue eyes cold as ice and a sour expression across his handsome face.

"I hate myself for it, but I love her." Peter remained impassive as Falcon made an impatient noise. "You may scoff, but it's true. Did you not love Milla when Jadis had taken over her body? You _wanted _to believe that she was still the same person, that there was good in her. If you were me, you would trust. You know what it's like, Falcon."

Falcon stared at his feet, grey eyes burning. Yes, he understood all too well what Peter Pevensie was going through. He couldn't be so condescending when, if this was Milla standing before, Falcon would be on his knees and proclaiming his love for her, convincing her to come back to him, begging her.

Ran glanced across at Aerilyn and then jerked his chin towards Peter.

"Kill him. We will blame Archenland and then war will break out. From the ashes, we Outlanders will rise and forge a lasting peace. Do it, Aerilyn. We are destined for something far greater and you know that."

Peter blinked and frowned in that moment. Ran was smirking in triumph as Aerilyn stepped forward without a glance at anyone. Her cold stare was fixed on Peter and Peter alone. The High King found it ever so slightly strange that Aerilyn hadn't told Ran that the Narnians already knew that the Outlanders were responsible.

Why wouldn't Aerilyn have told him? Didn't this entire plan rely on the Narnians and Archenlanders believing each other responsible for these deaths? Something just didn't quite add up in Peter's mind. From the sound of things, Aerilyn hadn't been supposed to tell the Narnians about the Outlanders…yet she had.

Aerilyn couldn't feel anything. She was hollow inside, just as she had been as a prisoner of the Outlanders. She was acutely aware of what she was doing…yet so very _numb._ She was becoming a monster. That was all she knew. She wanted to become more like herself and less like Ran…only it was too late now. Aerilyn knew what she had to do, knew why she couldn't afford to back down now.

Mike, Violet and Falcon watched in abject shock as Aerilyn crunched through the leaves until she stood directly in front of Peter. None of them moved. None of the Outlanders did either. They didn't want to provoke a fight. Everyone seemed to sense how unbalanced Aerilyn was, how dangerously she was teetering on the periphery.

_Confronting Aerilyn about murdering Reynald…she had sagged against the wall and burst into tears as he watched with absolute confusion._

_Aerilyn's devastation when Peter had kissed her… "It's just, when you kiss me…I don't know why…it reminds me of _him_."_

Peter's head reeled with confusion. Who was Aerilyn really? Had she lied about everything? Somehow, Peter couldn't see the raw emotions she had displayed as false. That couldn't have been acting. Peter had seen the feelings shining out through her eyes…whereas now, he saw nothing at all.

Aerilyn raised her bow so that the arrow was level with Peter's heart and the High King didn't even move as she stretched the string taut and prepared to fire.


	18. Everybody's Fool

**Chapter Seventeen: Everybody's Fool**

**A/N: Sorry that this one's a little late. I was off in Queensland for the week. Anyway, no more excuses. Without further ado, the next chapter.**

* * *

Safara thought that Tarin should be banished from Cair Paravel, but unfortunately that decision was not hers to make. The young man made no attempt at resistance as the Princess led him to the throne room, having summoned Lucy, Susan and Edmund for an urgent meeting. As soon as Safara and Tarin entered, Edmund leapt to his feet with concern shining deep within his dark eyes.

"Safara! What is the meaning of this?"

Tarin, to his credit, remained stoic while Safara explained how he had killed Hope. When she got to speaking about the fact that he was half-djinn, Tarin's eyes flashed crimson and shone with unshed tears, his mouth twisting in self-disgust as he stared defiantly up at the King and Queens, awaiting their verdict – awaiting the horror that he knew he would see in their eyes.

However, when Lucy gasped quietly and leaned forward, there was actually something like sympathy in her eyes. Sympathy for the prejudice he experienced due to his heritage. Tarin turned his face, because he had no need for the Valiant Queen's pity, or anyone's for that matter.

"So you were the one who killed Hope and Layla." Susan's tone was not accusatory. In fact, she sounded as though she was contemplating what to do now that she had learned all there was to know about Tarin.

Tarin's lip curled bitterly. Now he was a far cry from the flirtatious young nobleman they'd known. The exposure of the fact that he was half-djinn had made him wary and paranoid.

"I didn't do it because I'm _evil_, if that's what you're going to say."

Edmund sighed heavily and placed a hand over his face as if attempting to shield his eyes.

"No one said you were evil, Tarin. We don't blame you for being half-djinn. You can't help what you were born as. What you _can_ help is your actions. While you may have killed Layla in self-defence, the same can't be said for Hope."

Tarin bowed his head, feeling guilty. He wished he could undo what had been done, but it was far too late now. While Tarin had never exactly liked Hope, he hadn't wanted her dead. In his panic, he had lost sight of what was real and what he should do. All people made mistakes, only his seemed to be bigger than everyone's put together.

"I know what I've done cannot be forgiven," Tarin's voice was hoarse and his eyes flashed between sharp blue and crimson, "I don't blame it on the fact that I am half-djinn and I know I have no excuse. I understand if you wish to punish me."

"His actions were out of fear, not spite," Lucy pointed out, tossing back her hair, "I don't think he should be severely punished. I think Tarin is telling the truth about not wanting to murder Hope."

"Be that as it may, Lu, he still committed murder," Susan reminded her younger sister, "He cannot go unpunished."

Susan glanced across at Edmund, who was not known as the Just King for no reason. The young man's brows were furrowed in thought. Lucy was watching Tarin with a soft expression on her face, but he avoided looking at her. He didn't want her kindness, because he knew he didn't deserve it.

"We should wait for Peter's return," Edmund finally stated, and Tarin's shoulders slumped in relief, "He was the closest to Hope, so he should be the one to decide Tarin's fate."

Tarin offered the monarchs a rueful smile. Of course, he dreaded the High King's verdict – but he was just glad that he hadn't been sentenced to death. Well, not yet.

* * *

If Aerilyn released the arrow now, it would whiz straight into Peter's heart and kill him almost instantly. Her eyes narrowed as she focused all her energy on what she was doing. Peter watched her with sorrow deep in his blue eyes, silently pleading with her. He knew she wasn't a monster. He knew she didn't want to do this.

Indeed, Aerilyn slowly lowered the bow and turned her accusatory gaze upon Ran, who was frowning with displeasure. Aerilyn tilted her head to the side as she observed the man who held her in the palm of his hand…or did he?

"No. I want to see Delilah. I want to make sure you've kept your word and that you haven't harmed her before I kill the High King." Aerilyn's tone was cold and Peter knew that the young woman could just as easily turn on Ran. When the Outlander didn't answer, Aerilyn's eyes widened, searching Ran's face for the truth.

"Where is she?" Aerilyn demanded, fear clutching at her heart as she acknowledged that she already knew the answer, "_Where is my sister_? WHERE IS SHE?"

A slow, horrible smile spread across Ran's face as he threw back his head and laughed. Aerilyn watched him with shock in her blue-green eyes. Peter could see the distress in her face and at that moment, he knew what Aerilyn was doing, why she hadn't just killed him outright. She wasn't on Ran's side and she never would be.

"Delilah is dead," Ran informed Aerilyn harshly, his eyes glittering, "You stupid, naïve girl. Your sister has been dead since we pried the White Witch's scepter from her hands five years ago. I let you believe she was alive, because how else was I supposed to get you to listen?"

Aerilyn was trembling with rage and hatred. She felt the bile rising in her throat and she just wanted to scream, to cry, to beat her fists upon the ground. Tears blurred her vision and slid down her face and she acknowledged that perhaps she wasn't empty. If she had been numb, she wouldn't have been able to feel like her heart was breaking, like a part of her had just died painfully.

"No." The word came out choked. "No. No!"

The bow and arrow were limp in her hands. She couldn't even feel them anymore. She couldn't feel anything except the agony of knowing that she had been lied to all along, that her sister had been killed years before. The tears threatened to overwhelm her and Peter wanted to comfort Aerilyn as he watched her break down, sobbing heartbrokenly as Ran watched her rather impatiently.

"Is it better knowing the truth?" Ran sneered at her, gesturing towards an immobile Peter, "Now kill the High King before I kill you!"

Aerilyn sniffed back the remainder of her tears, gripping her bow and arrow tighter. Her expression was livid as she glowered across at Ran, but he simply raised his eyebrows and clutched at the hilt of sword, indicating that he was not joking about killing her. Aerilyn's face was contorted with grief as she raised the bow and once again positioned the arrow directly in line with Peter's heart.

"Don't take all day about it," Ran drawled almost lazily, "Just get it over and done with."

Peter stared at Aerilyn's face, marred by scars and stained with dirt and tears. Her blue-green eyes flashed and the beginnings of a ruthless smile curved her lips and he knew what she was going to do before she did it. He inclined his head ever so slightly.

Aerilyn whirled around and released the arrow. It whizzed through the air and struck an astonished Ran right through the heart. She lowered her bow and a vicious grin spread across her face as her former tormenter fell to his knees, gazing down at the arrow in his chest and then up at the merciless woman. He looked almost…vulnerable.

"I have dreamed of this day for so many years," Aerilyn spat at him, relishing the fact that she had finally gained her revenge, "You killed my family. You tortured me. You raped me. You scarred me so that nobody could ever want me…and now it's my turn, Ran. It's my turn to be the one in control."

Their positions had been reversed. Now Ran was the one crumpled to his knees, silently pleading for mercy, while Aerilyn was the one who stood over him. Loathing flashed across her face before she kicked out, slamming her booted foot into his face.

The stalemate had been broken when Aerilyn shot Ran. As the leader of the Outlanders fell motionless, blood seeping from his broken nose and ruined chest, the others took action. As Aerilyn gloated, another of the Outlanders surged forward, teeth gnashing in fury. Violet had taken up her bow and shot down two others, but Peter was watching the Outlander now charging at the copper-haired young woman.

"Aerilyn!" he shouted, panic and horror giving him a voice.

She whirled around fast, but not quite fast enough to avoid the sword that was aimed at her. Aerilyn's mouth opened in a soundless scream as the tip of the blade sliced down her back. The pain was excruciating, like someone had lit a fire down her back.

Peter ran towards her, his feet skimming across the ground. He slashed down the Outlander who had wounded her and dropped Rhindon. Mike and Falcon lingered behind him uncertainly. Violet stowed her last arrow and took a tentative step forward, eyes wide. To Peter, nothing else mattered except Aerilyn.

He cradled her limp form, watching as she blinked slowly as if still making sense of what had happened. Something warm, sticky and wet stained Peter's hands and he recognized it as Aerilyn's blood. Peter found that an itchy lump had lodged in his throat, refusing to go away.

"It hurts," Aerilyn whispered, attempting to shift and then grimacing at the pain. She smiled weakly at the distress she saw in Peter's eyes. "It's alright. I'm going to survive. It's just a scratch."

Her hand sought his out and his bloodied hand stained her lily-white skin. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, as if to silently convince him that she was going to be okay. Her blue-green eyes were full of an emotion that Peter had never seen there before: love.

"I love you, Peter. Did you know that? I have all along. I know you thought I was with Ran for a little while there…because that was what I needed you believe. I needed to get close enough…close enough to kill him. I was never against, not even for a moment."

Peter nodded fervently, reaching out and stroking back her copper hair.

"I believe you."

Aerilyn laughed hoarsely and then winced. There was hope in her blue-green eyes and Peter recognized the truth of the matter: Ran's death had set her free. No longer was Aerilyn a prisoner of fear and vengeance. She had gained her liberty.

"Yes. I know. You always have. So has Aslan. He…he spoke to me. When Ran came. He told me not to be afraid, and that I knew what I must do…and suddenly, I just _did_."

Aerilyn closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to accustom herself with the pain that burned all the way down her back. The wound wasn't a fatal one, but it was serious. If Aerilyn didn't receive help soon, it may become infected…and then she _would_ die.

"You risked everything for me," Peter whispered, suddenly seeing that Aerilyn's decision to feign an alliance with Ran had been an incredibly dangerous one. If she had failed to be convincing, the Outlander would no doubt have killed her. "It was only when you asked about your sister that I knew…"

Aerilyn's eyes sparkled with tears. "She is free. Like Milla and the rest of my family, she is free."

Peter gripped her hand and helped her unsteadily to her feet.

"So are you."

Her knees buckled and gave way and he easily scooped her up, carrying her past the others. Violet fell into step beside him, looking concerned. Despite their previous misgivings, she – along with Falcon – recognized that Aerilyn had saved them all through her fake betrayal.

"Will she be alright?" Violet questioned as Peter tied Aerilyn into her saddle so that she wouldn't slip out.

Peter turned to face Violet and his face was tight, yet his eyes held faith. It was amazing how much he had changed in the past few months, transforming into a young man who was both proud and yet cared deeply about his people. Aerilyn had changed him, for the better.

"I'm not sure. I hope so. All we can do now is pray to the Lion that she will be…and ride fast for Cair Paravel."


	19. To Be Free

**Chapter Eighteen: To Be Free**

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter is the last one of No Air! You guys have been utterly amazing. The last chapter should be done by next weekend – school starts back this week, urgh – and it will have information about the Susan story, Ice Queen. Hope you enjoy! Huge thanks to: FelipeMarcusThomas, MysteryGirl246, Elessar, shippolove844, princess emma of narnia, Rayven49, Elizabeth Zara, Calyn and CityGirl13.**

* * *

Aerilyn drifted in and out of consciousness. She was unaware of where she was each time, and how long it took her and the others to return to Cair Paravel. All she remembered was Peter carrying her into the entrance hall, the pain searing through her back, and Lucy running towards them with her dress flowing about her and concern etched on her face.

There was a black void. Aerilyn wasn't sure how much time had passed between when they'd returned to Cair Paravel and when she woke up. She unstuck her eyelids. The agony in her back was completely, miraculously gone. Peter's concerned face loomed over her and by the dark circles under his eyes, he'd been around for a while.

"You didn't have to stay for me, you know," Aerilyn murmured, stretching her arms above her head. In fact, it felt as though she hadn't been injured at all. She merely felt as though she had woken from a long and peaceful sleep. "What…what happened to the wound on my back?"

"Lucy's cordial healed it," Peter replied, his tone grim and his face pale, "But you will bear the scar for the rest of your life."

Aerilyn just shrugged. Scars might have bothered her once, but no longer. She had been liberated and she knew that while the scars Ran had left her may have marred her beauty, it was the person she was inside that truly counted. While Aerilyn wasn't too keen on earning new scars, it didn't make her feel ashamed as it once might have.

"What's the matter?" Aerilyn asked tentatively, sensing the tension that surrounded Peter and see the unhappy set of his jaw. "Something has happened."

Peter sighed and bowed his head. "A lot has happened. In our absence, Tarin killed Hope. While it was a complete mistake and he will regret it for the rest of his life, I can't just let it go. I've banished him for two years and he's not to return to Narnia until those two years are up."

Aerilyn's eyes widened with astonishment. She knew about Tarin's half-djinn heritage, and guessed that Hope must have known as well. She could see no other reason that the young man would have killed the naiad.

"How do you feel?" Aerilyn probed gently, searching Peter's eyes with her own, "I know Hope's death must have impacted hard on you…"

Peter's shoulders slumped. That was the problem. He wished that Hope's death made him upset, but the truth of the matter was…he didn't feel anything. Not shock, not misery. It was as if he couldn't really comprehend that it had happened. He recalled how coldly he'd acted towards Tarin and knew there was a part of him, deep down, that cared. Only he didn't know how to get to it.

"I…I can't feel anything. Does that make me a monster?"

Aerilyn felt his sorrow as though it was her own. If Peter was so devastated about being unable to feel, then she knew he really did care about Hope's death. She offered him a tight smile, reaching across and placing her hand over his. He stared across at her and she averted her blue-green eyes almost shyly.

"You could never be a monster, Peter," she told him quietly, soothing him with her voice, "You are such a noble and selfless man that…I don't see how you could ever think that."

In Aerilyn's eyes, Peter was perfect. She was flawed and she had her flashes of total coldness – yet Peter had trusted her, stood by her side through everything. It must have been incredibly difficult for him, trying to believe in her. Aerilyn had expected him to abandon her, but he was stronger than she had given him credit for.

The only doubt in her mind now was why Peter would fall in love with a woman like her. She found it hard to think that such a handsome man could be in love with her…yet she had accepted it. Aerilyn was starting to banish her cynicism and trying to focus on the good in this world instead of the bad. One thing was true: she was so very lucky to have Peter in her life.

* * *

"I'm actually glad that Tarin's gone."

Violet munched on her toast, while Mike threw her a puzzled glance. Of course, he had been shocked by what the young man had done as well, but surely Violet didn't mean what she said. However, as his piercing eyes searched her face, he could find no trace of a lie.

"Why is that?"

Violet shrugged and reached across for her tea. "Well, Aerilyn's one thing…but Tarin's another. Aerilyn murdered Lord Reynald because she believed her sister was being held prisoner. I can understand her reasons. It's just…with Tarin…no matter what he says, I don't think I could ever trust him again."

Mike nodded slowly. He and Tarin had had their – differences – but he never thought he'd see the day when the young man would become a murderer. He had left Cair Paravel that morning, his head downcast. He had not said goodbye to any of them and Mike wondered if that was what hurt Violet the most. In fact, Tarin had almost seemed relieved to be away from those who knew what he really was.

"Why did you sleep with him?" The question was blunt and Mike cringed inwardly, yet he truly wanted to know the answer. It didn't make sense to him, that Violet had slept with a young man she held such contempt for.

Violet's dark eyes were amused as she set her cup of tea back down on the table. She surveyed Mike carefully across the crusts of her toast, before she shook her head and laughed mirthlessly as she clambered to her feet.

"What?" Mike retorted defensively. He understood the question was a personal one, but Violet was like his little sister. Surely she would tell him anything?

"Isn't it obvious?" Violet drawled as she made her way out of the banquet hall, leaving a very confused Mike pondering exactly what she meant.

* * *

Falcon loomed over Milla's grave, feeling nostalgic. He really needed to move on and find himself another girl. He was twenty-one years old now and he still hadn't gotten in Milla. For Falcon, this was sure proof that he'd been in love with her – but far from being comforting, the notion broke his heart. That immovable lump seemed lodged in Falcon's throat as he stood over with a forced smile twisting his lips.

"Well, here I am again. Strange, isn't it, how things seem to repeat themselves. Despite everything that's happened, I keep coming back to you. It's a little sad. If you're out there…I just want you to know that I _am _trying to move on. There'll always be a place for you in my heart, Milla…but I know you'd be disappointed in me if I didn't try and let go."

It was like the past was stuck to Falcon like a second skin, as he desperately tried to peel it from him. He didn't want to forget Milla, but he didn't want to be stuck living in the past instead of moving towards a brighter future. He couldn't go back and erase what was done, but he could move forward. Many of the Outlanders may still be alive, but the main instigators were dead.

"There's going to be a new addition to the Pevensie family – well, two, actually. Peter's finally found the woman who's right for him and anyone can say that it's a matter of time. Safara's pregnant. She and Edmund constantly argue about whether it's a boy or a girl."

A quiet footstep made Falcon whip around – to see that Lucy had been standing behind him the whole time. Her head was tilted to the side as she considered him, and Falcon was startled to see the tears tracking down her cheeks. Since when did the Valiant Queen cry?

"Do you remember the old times?" Lucy asked, her voice thick with sadness, "When you used to pick me up and spin me around and call me 'doll' and not your Majesty? When we were actually friends and you weren't so alone?"

That had been a different time…and possibly a different Falcon as well. That punk-like young man with spiky dark hair and ear piercings still existed, but he had been twisted with bitterness, poisoned by the melancholy that threatened to consume him. Falcon swallowed hard, not quite sure what to say. When he finally found his voice, it was hoarse.

"Why did you follow me here?"

"Follow you?" Lucy chuckled mirthlessly. "Oh, Falcon. You don't really think you're the only one who misses Milla, do you? I come here sometimes and just…stand here. I can't think what to say, so I just say nothing at all."

"Why do you think Aslan let her die?" Falcon asked, wanting to try and understand why a good person like Milla could die, why all the good people died when monsters in human form continued to prowl through Narnia.

"Aslan doesn't control everything," Lucy reminded Falcon, sounding much wiser than her eighteen years, "It was Jadis who killed Milla, and she's dead now. Dead and gone. So why do you still hold on to something that doesn't exist?"

Falcon blinked. "I don't quite understand…"

"Your vengeance," Lucy reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm, "That's the problem, Falcon. It's been over two years now and I miss Milla as much as you do, only I've learned to let go. You need to do the same."

Lucy made it sound so easy. Did she think Falcon hadn't tried? It was so hard, so hard to release a part of you. Milla had always had a place in his heart and now he needed to relinquish the love he felt for her, or he would risk losing himself.

"Will it ever stop hurting?" Falcon asked of Lucy, "Will the pain of losing her go away?"

Lucy smiled sadly. "No. But it can become _bearable._ You can learn to live with it, Falcon. You have to."

She stood up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek, before she turned and walked back towards the castle, leaving Falcon to ponder her words in the darkness. He would never be the same person he was before Milla's death, the laid-back and somewhat lazy Falcon. He had changed…but he needed to accept the changes in his life, rather than clinging grimly to what had once been.

Lucy was right. He needed to let go.

* * *

_She stood watching her house burn, watching as the flames ate ravenously at the wood, her whole world on fire. Aerilyn's blue-green eyes reflected the horror she saw before her, the beginning of the end…or perhaps it was the end of the beginning._

_She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself over and over that she wouldn't cry. This was the night when her father and her sisters – both of them – had died. The night she had survived and been subjected to her own personal hell. But now it was over, all over._

_Then she saw the lion. He was so magnificent that he couldn't possibly be just a figment of her imagination. His tawny eyes fixed upon her and Aerilyn found herself transfixed by him, even more focused on him than she had been upon the inferno swallowing up her home._

"_You are Aslan."_

_It wasn't a question. Once she'd seen him, something inside her had just…clicked. She felt sorrow and anger and wonder all at the same time. The lion padded closer and Aerilyn was not sure whether he was here to harm or heal her._

"_Yes, child. I know who you are also. You have a fractured heart and a broken soul, but they are already starting to heal. The only question now is, will you let them?"_

_Aerilyn frowned. "What do you mean?"_

_For a moment they stood there in silence, the woman and the lion, watching as the crumbling remains of the house surrendered to the might of the fire. Aerilyn pressed her lips together in a firm line, but she didn't turn away._

"_Peter Pevensie is a noble man and he has won your heart. You can be certain that he won't break it. There are people who can help you, if only you would let them. These people love you, Aerilyn. You need to open your eyes and let them. Stop attempting to turn them away from you because of what you have been and what you have done, because it is who you are now that matters."_


	20. Lux Aeterna

**Chapter Nineteen: Lux Aeterna**

The celebrations for Safara's twentieth birthday were grand indeed. The star of the show was a young acrobat of about Susan's age, with a mess of blond hair and a cheeky smile. His name was Chelan and he flipped and somersaulted about the place as if for him, time was slow. The Kings and Queens watched delightedly, applauding whenever he landed on his feet.

Peter glanced around him. Everyone was in their finest clothes – he smiled at the noticeable bump of Safara's stomach – but the person he was looking for wasn't there. Aerilyn had vanished and as Chelan started launching himself into the air once more, Peter wondered if she had ever been there in the first place. He mumbled some excuse and Susan smiled knowingly as she watched her brother exit the banquet room.

Once, what seemed like a long time ago, Peter would have strutted around the place like a peacock with his golden crown shining on his head. Now, Peter had learned humility. He had matured much within the past few months and he knew that he had Aerilyn to thank for it. The woman had taught him many things, but the most important was that she had taught him to become a better person.

Passing by one of the windows, Peter saw a lone figure standing on the shore, their feet bare and their copper hair waving around them like a fiery halo in the soft breeze. A small smile beginning to work at his lips, Peter took off his boots and left them behind one of the doors as he continued to pad through the palace barefoot.

When he reached the beach, it was almost soothing to feel the sand between his toes, moist and cool. Peter cared nothing for the velvet tunic he wore, for the rich fabric of his clothes. Right now, all he was focused on was the red-haired woman who had her back turned to him, her shoulders tense.

"Aerilyn."

She turned to face him, and he noticed that she stood knee-deep in the ocean, her dress floating around her. Something silvery on her face caught the glimmer of the moonlight and that was when he realized she was actually crying.

"How did I ever trust him?" Aerilyn demanded of Peter, as if the High King actually knew the answer to her rhetorical question. "I was _so stupid._ Why would a man like Ran actually ever keep my sister alive? I believed a lie and the worst part is…deep inside, somehow, I already knew she was dead. But I believed him because I clung to that thread of hope that, maybe, she might still be alive. That maybe I was wrong…"

She was letting loose all of the emotions that had been bottled inside her for so long and despite the overwhelming grief, there was also the notion that by crying and letting it all out, somehow she was being set free. The shackles of pain that linked her to the past had been broken and now Aerilyn took the last tentative steps towards true liberty.

Peter waded into the water after her. The water was cold, but not overly so. Susan would most likely have his head for risking ruining his clothes, yet he hardly cared. The only thing that mattered was Aerilyn and when he reached her and put his arms around her, Aerilyn pressed her face into his chest and allowed herself to cry heartbrokenly. She cried for the pain she had suffered in the past, she cried for the deaths of her family.

"Don't look back," Peter told her firmly, tightening his grip around her, "Don't ever look back, Aerilyn. The future is what matters."

Her crying slowed into sniffs, before she finally retained her composure and wiped at her eyes. Peter didn't let her go and she didn't attempt to make him do so. The small waves lapped around their knees as she looked up, her eyes boring right into his, and managed a weak smile.

"Do you…do you really think there's a chance, Peter?"

He frowned, confused. "A chance for what?"

Aerilyn averted her eyes almost shyly. "Us."

Peter couldn't help but smile. He put a finger under her chin and tilted it up so that she was looking at him. When Aerilyn looked into his eyes, she could see for certain how she felt…and that made her smile, too.

"You're the only woman I've ever loved. You're the only woman I want in my life, Aerilyn. I don't think there's anything I've ever been more certain of. That is…if you'll have me. I wouldn't want to pressure you if…"

Aerilyn laughed and pressed a finger to Peter's lip, silencing him.

"Hush. You talk too much. Of course I'll have you. I thought you'd known that all along."

Peter was buzzing with delight. Nothing else mattered, not the ocean lapping around their feet, or Safara's birthday celebrations, or anything except this moment and them. They were in their own little world, and it was magical. Almost unconsciously, he leaned towards her, slowly at first, before he pressed his lips to hers.

Aerilyn stiffened in his arms and Peter expected for a moment that she would pull away, only then she melted into him and…kissed him back. It felt like fireworks were exploding inside her as finally she realized after all the hardship, she had _this. _Neither of them knew where it would take them and in that moment, neither of them cared. The world was perfect for that moment and they didn't want to change that.

* * *

Veronica impatiently pushed open the flap to Gareth's tent. With Ran dead, the intellectual had become the unspoken new leader of the Outlanders – which Veronica frowned upon, because she had always held disdain for Gareth. He was a spineless coward and if he hadn't been very clever, there would have been no use for him whatsoever.

She scowled as she noticed that Gareth had not even turned to greet her. In fact, he seemed to be busy pouring over a thick volume – old, judging by its yellowing pages and peeling cover. Veronica planted her hands on her hips and cleared her throat to gain Gareth's attention.

"What exactly are you doing?" she demanded of him.

Gareth offered her a rather withering glance. Just as Veronica disliked him, he viewed the warrior woman with contempt. She had a rash temper and was always stamping about as though she was constantly cross. He raised his eyebrows and gestured to the volume.

"Why, research, Veronica. You see, there's an interesting little theory about four swords that I took upon myself to look up…"

Veronica sighed heavily. "So instead of planning to attack the Narnians, you're looking up some stupid myth about swords? Come on, Gareth."

Gareth frowned at her prickliness. "We can't just charge at the Narnians with weapons in our hands but no battle plan. I have an idea. It most likely will take months if not years, but…"

"Years?" Veronica's voice rose an octave, "We don't _have _years. They'll be coming to weed the rest of us out and kill us soon enough…"

Gareth shook his head slowly. Despite their enmity with the Narnians, Gareth knew High King Peter wasn't like that. As long as the Outlanders posed no threat, then he wouldn't harm them. If they remained quiet for enough time, the Narnians would probably think the loss of Ran had cowed the Outlanders into submission.

"Your impatience is going to get you killed one day if you're not careful. You know the Narnians will not kill us if we don't give them a reason to. If we wait in silence, we will become invisible. It worked last time."

"But Ran's plan…" Veronica argued.

Gareth chuckled at this. "_Ran's_ plan? You think that moron came up with his idea all by himself? Ran was nothing more than a brute. I was the brains, Veronica. This time the plan shall be wholly mine and it will work, I can assure you. We need to secretly get into formation, so that we have all the weapons we need, so that when the time comes, the Narnians will have no choice."

He jabbed a finger at the volume. Veronica reluctantly moved over to look over his shoulder, where she saw a picture of a beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in bright blue, wielding a sword that looked to be made of ice. Veronica's eyes widened slightly.

"Who is that? Is it the White Witch?"

Gareth made a disparaging noise. "Come, Veronica. The White Witch was light of hair. This woman is clearly dark-haired and that is not the scepter in her hand. You see? It's Glacies – the sword of ice."

Veronica frowned slowly. "I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Then listen," Gareth retaliated sharply, as Veronica lapsed into a resentful silence.

"The White Witch's scepter is beyond repair, but that was never Glacies," Gareth said dismissively, noticing as Veronica's eyes lingered on the page. "We need these four swords, the Elemental Swords, as they are known. They hold great power and you can see by the picture there…Glacies is wielded by the Ice Queen. I have my theories about who she may be, but in order for the true Queen of Narnia – the Ice Queen – to ascend, then the other three swords must be destroyed."

Veronica sighed. This was not sounding like a very clever plan to her. Gareth was relying too heavily on his book of fairytales.

"That means we need to find four swords! It is impossible."

"Not so," Gareth contradicted, "Look at the swords. It is believed that Lux may indeed be the High King's sword, Rhindon…the sword of light."

His fingers traced over the page and in each corner, Veronica saw that four swords were drawn in intricate detail. There was Glacies, the sword of ice…Lapis, the sword of stone…Lux, the sword of light…and last not but least…

"Ignis," Veronica whispered, "The sword of fire."

Gareth inclined his head with a tight smile, pleased that Veronica was beginning to understand. He touched the sword and glanced at the young woman.

"And where have you seen that sword before?"

Veronica bared her teeth into a feral snarl as thought about a young warrior in whose hand a sword burned as bright as the sun itself…

"Safara," she growled.

Gareth couldn't help but smile as he picked up a pencil and pressed it to the page, carefully circling Lux. It was going to be very difficult to get the sword from the High King's possession…difficult, but not impossible, as the rather naïve Veronica was inclined to believe.

"When winter's end is three summers past…when peace holds sway again at last…" Gareth's hand was twitching with anticipation as he reached down and circled Ignis. Two swords down…two more to go. "The situation once more dire…when comes a girl…"

Veronica watched him, wide-eyed as she stared down upon the coldly beautiful Ice Queen, a picture of a woman with flowing dark hair and skin pale as the ice sword Glacies she carried…and what defied ice if not fire?

"With a heart of fire," she whispered.

* * *

**A/N: Hey everyone. Susan's story is next! It's called Ice Queen and it should be up in early August. Again, it's set two years later. Some of the stuff that happens in Ice Queen:**

**Don't forget about Chelan (the acrobat). You're going to be seeing a lot more of him.**

**Find out whether Safara and Edmund's child was a boy or girl.**

**Elemental magic plays a big role, and there is more about Safara being "the girl with the heart of fire". **

**Susan has to choose between two men (OCs).**

**Tarin's back.**

**Falcon strives to move on, with the help of one of our favourite Queens.**

**Until then, my friends! Hope you have enjoyed this story :)**


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